I am the Wind
by StoryLake
Summary: A braided story of love, adventure and doppelgangers. What happens when the Goblin King tries to re-order time? What will he sacrifice to fix everything? Stuffed full of your favorite Labyrinth characters and more twisted than a pretzel.
1. Chapter 1

**Author Note: **This story has been pulling at me for some months now, but the various bright bits and wiry pieces of it keep getting tangled like Christmas lights until I lose track of which end plugs in where! The story is not meant to be told in a straightforward fashion, but rather to weave around to its eventual destination like a ribbon through a braid of hair. I hope it works, but this is an experiment for me too! I'm not one for interrupting a story with notes, so until we reach the end I won't distract you again, though you may check my profile for updates and news. Enjoy!

****************

**Prologue**

_"You have no power over me."_

Her words echoed in the depths of the Labyrinth, but she was gone, returned home by that final crystal he released into the air.

Disappointment coursed through him, but for a fey creature, Jareth, the Goblin King, was surprisingly realistic. He never truly expected the teenage girl to choose him over her baby brother.

In owl form he briefly watched the revelry she enjoyed with her newfound friends and then launched back into the night sky, winging like a comet across its starry face.

He would be alone, to which he was accustomed, and the thought did not so much displease him as reassure him.

_Alone. _

That was something he understood, that was a feeling with which he was intimately acquainted. That was the very heartbeat of his existence, the shining mirror into which he gazed every day of his very long life.

No, he was not sorry to be alone again, or so he believed. Alone, after all, was an easy concept.

But he was wrong.

Alone would henceforth become strangely, unexpectedly, difficult.

*******

**Part One**

_I am the wind, and nothing more._

_I am the wave, pushed toward the shore._

_I am the shadow, gone Underground._

_I am the answer yet to be found._

**Now.**

Jareth was in a very old part of the Goblin Castle; a very old, very _unstable_ part of the goblin castle. He walked slowly down an airy corridor, gingerly stepping over gaping holes in the floor and running the long gloved fingers of one hand lightly over the crumbling walls. After a time, he stepped across the rubble of a collapsed doorframe and entered an empty, roofless room. Along the walls, now gray with age, could still be seen bits and pieces of once-glorious paintings of the Labyrinth. In the center of the room, the floor was sunken and the footing was treacherous. Choosing his path carefully, Jareth skirted one edge and came to a large doorway that long ago served as entrance to a grand balcony but opened now only onto the night. With a sigh, he rested an arm on the stones surrounding the opening, one booted foot braced on a small ledge. This door had been built like a window, with a wide ledge for stepping or sitting and remarkably, it was still largely intact.

Jareth's memories of this room were vague. It largely predated his tenure as King, but he had played here as a child. The tremendous magic that had been loosed following _her_ departure years ago had shaken the castle to its very core. This wing had suffered the most, but he hadn't considered it worth the energy to restore. Though his own parents had preferred a castle full of people and parties, Jareth kept much more to himself. The great, lonely stretch of years following their deaths had seen much left unused, especially since others of his own kind were increasingly occupied in the preservation of their own fragile realms.

Still, that catastrophe had triggered something within him, and he found himself visiting this wing, this room, with greater frequency. He sighed again, a soft sound in the dark, and removed one of his gloves. There was a place on the stone in front of him, worn smooth by the attentions of time and countless other caresses, that molded itself pleasingly beneath his bare hand. He closed his eyes and relaxed his palm and fingers into the cool stone. In the blink of an eye, he was awash in memories. His head lolled back against the opposite side of the doorway as images swept across his mind like wind before a rainstorm.

_Candles were burning everywhere. A swirl of fabrics as elegant ladies and gentlemen moved about the room. Music, a tune his mind couldn't _quite_ recall, wove about the undulating bodies like bathwater, warm and inviting. Small brown figures darted in and out of the melee, laughing and chattering happily as they ran about on various errands. And in a corner, a young boy sulked into a velvet pillow, his blonde hair falling into his eyes as he shook his head in vehement disagreement with the dapper fox in front of him. _

_A change of scene: the same boy, older now, lying on his back in one of the deeper castle gardens. His blonde hair and burgundy cloak spill out over the soft moss on which he lies, and his chest rises and falls evenly. Somewhere behind him, a dwarf gardener is clumsily making repairs to a section of garden wall. The wall is made of stones of various shapes and sizes all cobbled together, and something (or someone!) has made a hole in it large enough for the dwarf to fit his lumpy head. Something possessed him to try this very thing, and finding it no easy task to remove again, he set about pulling and cursing and causing a shower of smaller stones to rain down noisily on the paving stones at his feet. This same noise caused the sleeping boy to awaken and…_

_He is much, much older now, a jaded king playing cat-and-mouse with a very young girl in a room full of stairs. He's let this one get further than any before her, dangerously far, though he's confident in his ability to win her love, her obedience. Her fear, he already has, but as he gets ready to play his final hand, he abruptly realizes it will not be enough. The great Labyrinthine chime sounds._

_Too late! Too late!_

With a gasp, he pulls his hand away from the wall as though burned.

*******

**Elsewhere**

"I ain't doin' it, Didymus, and that's final!"

In a small clearing near a ramshackle cottage at the Labyrinth's entrance, Hoggle, Royal Gardener and Steward of the Moving Arch, was in a snit.

Sir Didymus, Knight of the Labyrinth and Guardian of the Bog of Eternal Stench, trailed doggedly after his friend as he prepared to begin another day's pointless effort in the brambles and vines that called this area home.

"Friend Hoggle!" he cried again, "you must surely see the reason in my entreaty! His Majesty is not himself, else he would surely have…"

Hoggle whipped around suddenly and brought the small fox up short, bushy eyebrows lowered over eyes dark with anger, and something else. "Jareth's the same as 'e ever was, thinkin' only of himself same as usual."

His derisive snort caused Didymus' eyes to open wide, but the little knight was silent as he continued, "Never did see 'im consider anyone else, save _once_, and look where that got 'im!_ Pffft! Pah_!" Hoggle spit upon the ground, narrowly missing his own worn leather shoe, and resumed walking, leaving his friend to hurry once again in his wake.

The little fox's face was full of optimism, which pained the surly dwarf to see. He liked the knight, and under other circumstances would happily forbear any inane, eccentric request that the other felt compelled to make, but not this time. This time, Hoggle intended to put his foot, his _feet_, firmly down and not be persuaded by his friend's wily charms. Let Didymus chatter all morning, it was one and the same to him. No reason why he should let the gardens gain a greater foothold into chaos than they had already, just to humor that request. Bah! He'd have to be hit on the head with one of Ludo's rocks first. Determinedly, Hoggle marched on.

*******

**Nearby**

"I don't like it, dearie, no I don't."

Within a damp wall, something squirmed and stuck its brightly tufted head out a small opening for the briefest of looks and a deep breath of air before tucking itself swiftly out of sight once more.

Retreating within, it's voice was softer than before. "There's an ill wind blowing, lovey, sure as anything. Something's a'brewing."

Outside, a dozen googly-eyed stalks of gander-weed shifted restlessly and were still once more.

*******

**Above**

Sarah was restless.

Work done for the day, she wandered a quiet park alone, walking quickly in the autumn chill with her hands stuffed into the pockets of her long denim coat. Her feet in soft leather boots kicked at dry leaves in her path as her thoughts skipped here and there like butterflies in a summer breeze, refusing to alight for more than a moment on any single thought. She stepped off of the paved path and onto a narrow dirt one that ran between two large oak trees into the thick woods that made this particular park so quiet, and so lonely. None of the normal playgrounds or tennis courts could be found here, just a paved path running through a small corner of an immense acreage of very old woods and a few unmapped trails that criss-crossed its expanse for those who desired solitude and reflection.

The second her feet found the dirt trail and the shadows of the great trees closed overhead, she could feel herself relax and her thoughts begin to settle. More and more frequently, she found herself here of late. She'd walk for hours before some inner alarm clock warned her of the advancing hour, and then she'd reluctantly leave and head for home.

But for tonight, the hour was still early and she felt cheerful at the thought of a long hike to clear away the debris of the day.

In the shadows of the thickly carpeted forest floor, small brown shapes darted, their small feet making almost no sound save for the occasional dry leaf crunched underfoot or brittle twig snapped in that same fashion. Every time Sarah walked these trails, more of the little forms accompanied her, but if she was aware of them, she gave no indication of it that they could detect.

Tonight, they grew bolder than ever before, scampering up behind her on the path only to jump away into the underbrush with muffled, cackling laugher. Sarah never paused, but walked resolutely ahead, a thin melody rising from her lips like mist on a damp morning. In the dark of the forest, she was doing something she would never allow herself to do anywhere else, something that absorbed all of her attention. She was _remembering_.

*******

**Then**

The noise from their celebration should have caused her parents to come running, should have disturbed Toby into a resentful shriek, but it didn't.

When Sarah slipped out of her room for a quiet breath in the hallway, the silence was absolute. Other than the light spilling beneath her door, no sign existed that would alert the household to the revelry taking place behind her. She moved without sound down the hallway to the bathroom, pausing for just a moment outside the bedroom her parents and Toby shared. All was still and dark, and only a small pool of light from a nightlight above the sink penetrated the blackness. Sarah moved into the bathroom and closed the door with a soft click, her breath exhaling with a barely audible _whoosh_ that betrayed her feelings of exhaustion and relief. She rested her hands, palms down, on the cool marble surface of the vanity and cautiously peered at her own reflection in the large mirror hung above it. In the dim light from the nightlight, most of her body was lost to shadow and only her pale face shone whitely within, seeming to float in the blackness like some lonely moon.

For what felt like hours, but was probably only moments, she gazed at herself and breathed slowly, thoughts ranging back over the events of the evening. Of course, thirteen hours hadn't really passed. She had clearly been away almost no time at all.

_How did I get back here?_ She was so grateful to be there, so grateful for the steadying presence of her father and stepmother, her _parents_, in the next room, and yes, for Toby too; especially for Toby. _I've been so very, very foolish_.

An image flashed across her mind: mocking blue eyes beneath strangely slanting brows. Suddenly, she very much wanted to be back in her brightly lit room with her new friends.

She left the bathroom quickly and retreated to the door of her own room, but then stopped, hesitating, with one hand gripping the doorknob. Light still spilled out from beneath the closed door and as before, there was no noise. She turned the knob and pushed the door open, instantly sure what she would find.

The room was empty.


	2. Chapter 2

**Now**

Jareth dozed lightly on the exposed ledge, one arm within the castle and one without. Anyone else would have seemed in danger of falling, but Jareth was master here, and every stone of the castle knew it and supported him without fail. The same could no longer be said of the Labyrinth.

A whisper woke him. A whisper, where there should only have been silence. He strained towards the sound and caught the barest hint of a melody. Once, that same melody had haunted him through days and nights of darkness and ruin, had dogged his steps as he sought purchase in the new world rising from the ashes of the old.

_Oh yes,_ he snorted, _how melodramatic. _ _My kingdom collapsed. _

Except, of course, it hadn't. Not really. He'd only _wished_ it had.

He shook his head to quell the direction of his thoughts; that way lay madness and he had spent too much time already in useless dreaming.

He threw his senses out wide, like a net over his kingdom, searching for the source. It lay near the boundary, very near the edge of...

He sat up, perfectly rigid with surprise. He must be mistaken.

He pulled a crystal into his hand and peered within, seeking the limits of his domain. For several long seconds, he observed the images moving within the crystal, then he shifted it _just so_ on his fingertips and pulled into it visions of his subjects. He frowned then. Were he still able to commune directly with his Labyrinth, this would never had occurred. Indeed, the fact that it _had_ occurred was so unprecedented as to be alarming. One final time, he checked within the crystal, then banished it with a wave of his hand. There was no mistake. The boundaries of his kingdom had shifted, encroaching into the world above. Such a thing had not been allowed to happen for thousands of years, would _not_ have happened if he still ruled the Labyrinth in more than name only.

Of course, that was only half of it. His subjects, his goblins, were clearly off pursuing an agenda of their own, which was unusually enterprising of them. What could they be up to? He rubbed the smooth skin above the bridge of his nose, fighting the urge to close his eyes once more. Long ago, he had asked something of them, something that had proved beyond their capabilities. He ran through the possibilities, but of course, he already knew. Sharp as a spike from the great Pit of the Southern Wastes, Jareth combined the melody with the goblins and like a prodigy of mystical equations, reached the inevitable conclusion: the goblins were attempting to bring Sarah Williams back Underground.

He felt an unlikely surge of affection for his disorderly subjects. The goblins were creatures of the Labyrinth still, but they were also loyal to him, their King. They were a part of him and he was a part of them, though they tended to receive those parts he didn't wish to express personally and all too often, that included the secret desires of his heart. Of course, being goblins, they were more than likely to bollocks the whole thing up. Jareth sighed. There was really no choice.

He would have to intervene.

*******

**Elsewhere**

Hoggle groaned and rubbed his knobby head, bitterly regretting his earlier blithe dismissal of Didymus' concerns. From his reluctantly supine position, he could see the little fox rushing over to him _tsk tsking_ in concern.

"Friend Hoggle!" he cried, "Are you quite all right?"

Hoggle managed a pathetic sort of snort in response, though the effort made the ache in his head worse. He let his friend help him into a sitting position and felt around on the ground until his right hand closed over the offending object he sought; a rock, just large enough to give him an ugly bump on the noggin.

"Ludo!" he spat disgustedly, still rubbing his sore head.

Didymus was fretting at his side, mumbling something about "certainly an unfortunate accident" and Hoggle was finding him extremely vexing. He reached out and grabbed the little fox by the front of his tunic. "Where is he?" he demanded.

Didymus stopped fussing and regarded his friend quizzically. "To whom are you referring, my brother? Surely you don't expect His Majesty to come traipsing towards us through yon hollyhocks?" At this the little knight did look a bit worried, and glanced repeatedly over his shoulder lest such a vision should come to pass.

"Not _him_, you addle-brained varmint. Ludo! Where is Ludo?" Hoggle released the little fox and spat disgustedly again. "Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talkin' 'bout either, Didymus", he said reproachfully.

The eyes of the little knight opened wide in surprise. "Surely," he exclaimed, "you don't think our noble brother Ludo is responsible for this rock?"

Hoggle groaned again. It was useless. He'd just have to go along with whatever hare-brained scheme Didymus had cooked up or he'd be at the mercy of more of Ludo's "accidents" sure as the western wall had wings.

He scratched his head, carefully avoiding the large bump. Or was it the _eastern_ wall that had wings?

*******

**Nearby**

In a forgotten corner of the oldest section of the Labyrinth, something long dormant was stirring. Crumbling walls of sandstone, overcome by moss and time, enclosed a little courtyard at the center of which lay a shallow pool. Far above, the usually hazy sky was clearing. Popcorn clouds sailed smoothly across its face and left in their wake an unnaturally bright blue through which brilliant rays of sunlight pierced the gloom and chased away the shadows below. One such sunbeam fell on the shallow pool and where it hit, ripples began to form and a vapor began to rise. Around the pool, wispy forms took shape and began putting the area to rights, clearing away the dust and cobwebs and weaving bright garlands seemingly out of thin air. Cushioned couches appeared around the pool, hazy-edged and fragile at first but quickly becoming solid and welcoming. The bright green moss on the walls glittered in the sunlight and everywhere was an aura of expectation. A thought that had no voice nevertheless made itself known to the Wisps who labored there: _She Comes._

_*******_

**Above**

So deep in her thoughts wandered Sarah, that she failed to notice the change in the path before her. True, the change was subtle at first. The packed earth underfoot grew a bit harder, the depths of the forest around her a bit murkier, and the bits of sky visible overhead through the heavy tree cover began to lighten, though by rights they should have been darkening with the onset of twilight.

The goblins shadowing her footsteps noticed at once and the sight only increased their merriment. _The time has nearly arrived! _They leaped and bounded alongside the rapt woman with decreasing care for their detection. What did it matter if she noticed them now? She had only to walk just a little bit farther…

One of the more rambunctious goblins gave a mighty lurch just beneath her right hand where it swung to and fro at her hip. The horn on the rusty helmet it wore jabbed Sarah's palm and she stopped humming and gave a little cry, not quite of pain, but more of surprise. All in the same moment she glanced downward just in time to see the little brown head in its offending helmet slip sideways into the underbrush. Her eyes grew wide and she stopped walking.

"What the…" The question died on her lips as she came fully out of her dreaming and became aware of her surroundings. Whispers and tittering floated up on all sides, and the forest seemed alive with movements that _should not be there_. Sarah hung on to that last thought as she shook her head and took a deep breath of forest air, scenting the dampness of earth and trees and _something else._

Dread and exultation vied for dominance and failed, forced to mingle in a way that caused her to be suddenly nauseous.

She swallowed hard and whipped around, "Show yourselves!"

The tittering ceased now, as small brown figures pushed and shoved their way onto the path, crowding together sheepishly before Sarah as she tilted her head in amazement.

"Goblins," she breathed, her voice barely audible. They watched her expectantly, shifting on small feet and waiting to see what she would do, looking for all the world like some particularly downtrodden scouting troop that had disappointed their leader. A few snuffled ingloriously and kicked at the dirt, but Sarah was no longer looking at them. She had lifted her gaze to somewhere above their heads and her low words were only for herself.

"I'm going to turn around now," she said slowly, "and when I turn back, you will all be _gone!_" This was accompanied by a swift pivot back to her original direction; eyes closed, she counted to ten, then decided to count a bit further.

Behind her, the goblins were poking each other and muttering in confusion. _Did she see us? She saw us! She wants us to go away!_

"…forty-eight, forty-nine…" Sarah's count continued, her slim hands clenching and unclenching at her sides.

*******

**Then**

He didn't care, at first, that he no longer had any connection with his Labyrinth, could no longer sense its creatures or its shifting passageways. He sulked like a child, denied a treat and terrorized the goblins in his throne room who quite frankly, didn't notice the difference.

Crystals rolled and crashed as he played at being angry, being _furious_, because anything had to be better than the nothing that was all he felt.

"Curse that girl for a stupid fool!" His riding crop smacked the stone floor with shattering force. A particularly brave goblin darted out to grab the pieces the king flung behind him and retreated, cackling, beneath the throne.

Instinct demanded he call up a crystal and summon a vision of her, but though the magic to do so was still his, the connection between them had been utterly lost.

"Eh, she didn't know!" rasped a wizened brown figure squatting sagely out of the reach of Jareth's boots. The elderly goblin spat noisily on the stone floor and picked at its teeth with one dirty claw.

Jareth stalked over and grabbed him by his over-sized nose, first pulling him close and then shoving him roughly back into a pile of other goblins.

"I _know_ she didn't know!" he snarled, then abruptly his expression lost its fierceness. He sank wearily to the floor. The enormity of his loss, not just the girl to whom he had foolishly given his heart, but the Labyrinth itself, wedged itself into him and pulled apart his thin anger.

"I will take back what is mine!" His jaw set with resolve, he motioned to his subjects. "Find her!" The goblins ran to and fro, bumping into each other and into him and everywhere except the door.

He struck his hands together and a thunderclap brought instant silence and stunned goblins who eyed him warily.

"Go NOW!" he commanded, and with the toss of a crystal the throne room was emptied.

He settled himself in his throne. "I don't care how long it takes."

***


	3. Chapter 3

**Now**

Jareth was dressed carelessly in leather and silk, gold and ivory. His wild blond hair was streaked with silver and tufted like the feathers of a great bird. He paced the confines of his throne room, tapping a riding crop against one leg in an agitated manner while simultaneously pulling crystal after crystal out of thin air only to gaze into them and shake his head quickly before flicking them away.

_Pull. Shake. Flick._ Faster and faster the crystals winked in and out of existence on the tips of his gloved fingers. He pivoted on one booted heel and spun around, took a few steps forward and then pivoted again.

_Pivot. Spin. Step. _Faster and faster he moved, until he flicked the last crystal away and flung himself onto his throne.

From the corner of the room, a small goblin tentatively approached and made as though to polish the king's boots with a dirty rag. When it wasn't immediately kicked away, it hunkered down and polished in earnest, somehow avoiding transferring any filth from the rag to the boots as it industriously worked away. Seeing its success, others of its kind slunk out from the shadows and slowly resumed their normal activities.

Lounging in his throne, the King of the Goblins mulled over his options.

**Elsewhere**

Rocks were shifting.

The walls of the Labyrinth moved according to some design, but here and there were blocked by boulders that overnight had rolled down and settled in new places.

It did not escape the attention of Hoggle that Sir Didymus seemed to have no trouble whatsoever navigating these newly formed pathways. Moreover, he observed the little knight giving a fond pat to a boulder more than once as they passed by. Curiouser and curiouser.

As they walked, he mulled over the things Didymus had told him. Most of it was nonsense; disappearing goblins, Wisps, and peculiar bubblings of the bog. Portents seen in the droppings of a dog, shadows that didn't move like shadows were supposed to move, and a formerly reclusive King becoming active once more. Still, there was something the little fox had said that bothered him, something about Jareth being "not himself". Hoggle shook his head which had begun to ache again. Since the girl, (_Sarah,_ he thought, _her name was Sarah)_, had failed to accept the Labyrinth she solved _and_ had failed to abdicate to its previous King, Hoggle hadn't seen or heard much of that frightening person. Jareth had shut himself away, for the most part, and that suited Hoggle just fine. He knew Sir Didymus still saw the Goblin King on a regular basis, but he never concerned himself about it. Knight's business was none of his and he had finally learned his lesson about poking his nose in where it didn't belong.

Up ahead, the little fox had stopped beside large stone urn. As Hoggle looked on, the nimble knight shimmied up the side of the urn and dropped out of sight inside it. Hoggle frowned at the thought of a long climb down a rickety ladder, but just as he reached the urn and prepared to hoist himself up, Didymus' head popped back out of the urn's mouth.

"Never fear, my brother-at-arms, I have found what we need!" Sir Didymus grinned triumphantly and pulled a worn leather pouch from the darkness below him. "Catch carefully, good fellow, we must keep this safe."

Hoggle reached up to receive the pouch, which was fairly light, and would have immediately pulled apart the drawstrings to look inside, but Sir Didymus whispered loudly, "Wait!"

The small fox clambered up and over the side of the urn and over to Hoggle, glancing over his shoulders and ducking his head as though he were trying to hide something.

Hoggle opened his mouth to ask what was the matter, but the little knight shushed him with a paw placed gently over his lips. The fox's bright eyes were sparkling with excitement. He leaned in closer to the dwarf and whispered, "Not here, the walls have ears." Motioning Hoggle to bring the pouch and follow him, the little fox made a great show of looking all around and then said loudly, "Come, my companion, let us retire to your gardens and talk of old times!" He glanced quickly back to make sure the dwarf was following, gave him a wink, and set off towards the opposite side of the clearing.

Hoggle groaned and shuffled along behind him. Of course the little knight was perfectly correct. Many of the walls _did_ have ears; eyes and noses also. Things only stayed hidden within the Labyrinth because of their proximity to so many _other_ hidden things. Like always called to like. It was on the tip of his tongue to call out "Forget it!" and turn around and go home, forget the whole thing, rocks or no rocks, when he noticed a peculiar shadow sliding like a snake along the top of the wall beside them. The inky shadow, darker than a real shadow and with no obvious source, slid easily in and out of the cracks between the stones and seemed to expand and contract as it moved. They turned a corner and it followed. They squeezed past a boulder blocking most of an ivy-covered archway and then crept down a damp, mossy stairway and into a narrow corridor and still, up at the top of the walls, the shadow kept pace with them.

Hoggle swallowed hard and in the pit of his stomach, fear blossomed.

**Nearby**

"Can it, Carlos!" said Wanda, pushing past him into the house. She swept into the living room like the north wind, her icy disapproval dropping the ambient temperature a good 10 degrees.

The object of her wrath made a rude gesture that she, fortunately, missed and followed her inside. He looked around the room as Wanda ignored him and checked the answering machine.

"Hey Wanda," he said at last, "did you leave that window open?"

Wanda was frowning at the telephone. Tim still hadn't called and there was no note from Sarah, either.

"Huh? What?" she asked distractedly.

Carlos rolled his eyes said a quick prayer for patience. Of his three housemates, Sarah, Tim and Wanda, she was by far the most annoying. "Never mind," he said and stalked across the room to shut the window.

A crash sounded from the vicinity of the kitchen and made him jump. Wanda was three strides ahead of him as they both started towards the noise. Outside the swinging door to the kitchen, they stopped and listened. Small sounds came from within, but it wasn't clear what was making them.

"Maybe we should call the police," said Carlos, but Wanda shook her head.

"It's probably a wild animal, a squirrel or raccoon or something that came in through that window you left open. Go get a broom and open the front door and we'll chase it out."

Carlos opened his mouth to protest that _he_ hadn't left the window open, then decided arguing was pointless and closed it again. He retreated down the short hallway to the front door, opened it and grabbed a broom from the front closet.

"Come _on_!" yelled Wanda, impatient with him as usual. He never moved fast enough for her.

He readied himself for action, broom in both hands, when the kitchen door swung suddenly towards them, forcing them to stumble back against the walls of the little hallway. A small brown _something_ dashed past them, rounded the corner by the living room and darted up the stairs to the bedrooms.

"What the hell?" Wanda recovered herself first, grabbed the broom from Carlos and headed for the stairs.

Carlos made to follow her when Tim came walking in through the open front door, both hands full of groceries. He took one look at Carlos's wild eyes and dropped the bags onto the foyer floor.

"What's going on?" asked Tim.

Carlos motioned to him to follow him upstairs. They could hear Wanda opening bedroom doors, searching for whatever had run up there.

"Some animal got in and we're trying to get it out," said Carlos.

Tim shrugged and followed him, grabbing an umbrella on his way up, just in case.

On the landing, they spotted Wanda, gesturing furiously towards one of the bedrooms. She rolled her eyes at Tim's umbrella, then pointed to the closed door. "It's in there," she said unnecessarily.

"Sarah's not going to be happy that you trapped it in her room," chided Tim, still stung by her eye-rolling.

"It's my room too, doofus," snapped Wanda, "now get ready!"

She pushed the door open slowly, broom at the ready. "A little further..."

She stopped. Tim and Carlos crowded in beside her. Inside the small bedroom, strange laughter could be heard. A small tail stuck out from the top of Wanda's dresser drawer. Socks and underwear were scattered everywhere. As they looked on, dumbfounded, more came flying out of the drawer to land at their feet.

Carlos whistled long and low. "I didn't know you went in for the animal prints, Wanda."

Wanda glared. Tim blushed. A snout appeared over the top of the drawer, with a muffled "hummpth" as eyes peeked out from underneath a lacy number.

"Plan B?" asked Tim.

**Above**

Eyes still tightly closed, Sarah sensed a change in the air around her.

She was filled with foreboding as all the fears and misgivings she had experienced since her teenage encounter came flooding back to her. She was fifteen again, hiding beneath the covers with all the lights on.

She was sixteen again, keeping up an endless stream of chatter to ward against the little noises in the shadows.

She was seventeen, convinced her time in the Labyrinth was a kind of out-of-body experience or a prophetic dream.

She was eighteen, convinced her time in the Labyrinth was a symptom of faltering mental health.

She was nineteen, waiting to sleep until she was too exhausted to dream.

She was twenty, waking tired with half-remembered dreams that slipped her grasp when she tried to pin them down in a journal.

She was twenty-one, unsure of herself and the direction her life would take, and utterly bemused by a chance encounter on the last day of college.

_Enough!_

Gathering the shreds of her courage about her like a cloak, Sarah took a deep breath and opened her eyes.

**Then**

Sarah had changed, and only time would tell whether or not it was for the better.

She still loved her toys and her costumes, but she was no longer certain what dream she wished to pursue. She spent too much time in her room, staring into the mirror, straining to catch a glimpse of something; what, she wasn't sure. Sometimes, she'd hold one of her beloved toys to her chest and her heart would start to beat a little faster. The room would grow dim around her and she'd be overcome with a feeling of _otherness_. Once or twice during these times she thought she saw movement in the corners of her room. She'd turn on all the lights and still be unable to banish the shadows that always lurked just behind her back.

It was a relief to go away to college. For four blissful years she lived a life of independence and exploration. She read widely, with a particular passion for mythology and dream interpretation. She excelled at her studies and drove herself to exhaustion doing so. She had many friends, but spent her evenings and weekends largely alone.

There was always some assignment she could be working on, always some extra credit project she could be researching; some additional source she could site for the lengthy papers she excelled at. For four blissful years, she kept the shadows at bay, but it couldn't last.

When she shut the door to her dorm room behind her for the last time, throwing her oversize backpack over one shoulder and hoisting a bulging cardboard box in her arms, she was hit with an overwhelming sense of loss. The feeling came out of nowhere as she struggled down the stairs and out the front door, a vicious punch to the gut that took her breath away and brought tears to her eyes. Unable to make it to the parking lot, she dropped her box and backpack and was about to collapse onto a nearby bench, when something she never afterwards could adequately explain, made her dart off the path and into the shade of an enormous evergreen tree whose weighty limbs bent to the ground and provided a private circle often used as campus trysting spot. On the soft carpet of brown pine needles, she flung herself face-down and cried as though her heart would break.

Above her, in the great tree's branches, little figures winked in and out of existence.


	4. Chapter 4

**Now**

Sarah opened her eyes.

_Oh,no, this is not real. This can not possibly be real._ Sarah closed her eyes again, willing her breathing to slow, her heartbeat to regulate. She was tired, that was all. It was later than she thought. Yes, that was better. She opened her eyes.

She opened her eyes and gazed upon the enormous wooden doors of the Labyrinth. They were ajar. Overhead, the sky had deepened into a misty orange. The woods, the path and the goblins were all gone. _This is impossible_, thought Sarah. _Impossible._

"Well I'm not going in there," she said aloud. She looked around her then, but the landscape was as dusty and barren as she remembered. It might have been any ruin set in a dry area, but for the dirt that glittered, and that odd-colored sky. She turned in a slow circle, searching for a way back to the forest, but the trees, the path, the goblins, everything was gone. There were only the doors, beckoning.

"I won't!" she said to the wall, to the vines. She sat down slowly, still expecting someone to show up. Hadn't Hoggle been here before? And there had been fairies...

A noise from behind startled her and she shrank down low against the stones, eyes alert. A small rock flew over her head, striking the Labyrinth wall just beyond. Another followed, then another, then another. Sarah squirmed on her stomach across a short stretch of dirt to a largish boulder, hoping for some protection. She tried to lift her head enough to see where the rocks were coming from, but whenever she rose up more than an inch or so, the rock pelting began again. She tried sliding to the right, more rocks. The left, more rocks. She tried retreating back towards the formless hills, but the rock shower became so strong she was forced to run to the looming shadow of the Labyrinth doors to find shelter.

"Okay, okay, I get it!" she yelled into the air. It was clear that someone or some_thing_ was herding her into the Labyrinth itself. She stepped between the great doors and as if in response, the rock-pelting ceased.

"Fine then," she muttered, "if that's the way it's done, then that's the way I must do it."

Without another glance back the way she had come, she moved fully through the doors and into the outer corridor of the Labyrinth. With a groan, the doors closed behind her.

Sarah repressed a shudder, suddenly overcome with deja vu. "C'mon feet!" she said and couldn't help a small smile as she remembered the last time those words had passed her lips. She strode briskly along the outer corridor of the Labyrinth, one hand stretched out to the inner wall to trail lightly over the bricks there. The little worm had been right, she reflected. The Labyrinth really _was_ full of holes. The problem was, which to choose?

_Eh, it's not likely to matter much, is it?_ Unlike last time, the castle was probably the very _last_ place she wanted to go. Which brought up the very good question: where did she want to go? She had absolutely no idea. If she was stuck here, perhaps she could find a familiar face. A _friendly _familiar face. _Not_ a wild-haired man with mis-matched eyes who looked at her as though she were his salvation on a plate and would she please just forget everything and surrender herself already?

_Not bloody likely_, she thought and stepped through the nearest opening into a dim, twilit woods.

_Crap._

She was not alone.

**Elsewhere (before)**

It was not widely known in the goblin kingdom, but His Majesty had made it a habit to take tea with Sir Didymus. Not every day, not even every week, but often enough that when nearly a month had passed without a visit from his liege, the little fox went to the castle to inquire after him.

As was customary, he left his mount, Ambrosius, in the kitchens. The kitchen goblins, while twitchy, were friendly sorts and could always be counted on to give the large dog a meaty bone and a warm place of honor before the hearth. If the kitchen goblins were twitchier than usual, or quieter, or strangely sober, Didymus failed to notice. He was cheerful as he scampered up the back stairway to the little crescent-shaped alcove just behind the throne room. He hummed a jaunty tune as he took the thick rope bell-pull in both front paws and gave a mighty tug. A deep and resonant chime sounded instantly and Sir Didymus looked around him expectantly.

There was only silence.

He debated ringing the bell a second time; he hesitated. The Goblin King had been known to throw visitors into an oubliette for doing so. A few weeks in the blackness was very helpful for teaching them patience. The little fox decided to wait a bit longer. The goblins assigned to the bell might be especially low today. _In their cups, may-hap, _he thought to himself. Sir Didymus was a confirmed teetotaler. He abhorred anything that might cause him to take leave of his senses. Goblins, however, did not feel the same. He chuckled to himself, sure he had hit upon the cause. Perhaps instead of ringing again he would just stick his snout through the great doors, just a mite, just to have a little peek. His Majesty would surely not want his most loyal knight to be left so long on his doorstep.

Straightening himself so as to show his King proper respect, Sir Didymus pushed slowly on the Great Door of Admittance. When it was open a paw's width, he carefully stuck his snout in the opening and sniffed.

Surprised then, he pulled it quickly out and the door slammed shut.

"How peculiar!" exclaimed the little fox, to no one in particular (as there was no one there). His nose never lied and his nose insisted the throne room was empty. _Odd,_ he thought, _the throne room is _never_ empty._

Now the barest feeling of unease crept like fog into his belly, which rolled and pitched like a rowboat on the ocean. Sir Didymus, being who he was, decided he must be hungry and that a "wee bite" might help him think what to do next. He scurried back down to the kitchens and met with a further unexpected circumstance.

The kitchens, with the exception of Ambrosius, were now entirely devoid of goblins. _Stranger and stranger_. His whiskers twitched nervously. Ambrosius raised his shaggy head sleepily from his front paws and _woofed_ softly.

**Nearby** **(before)**

The Goblin King walked slowly around a dusty courtyard, peering first through one archway, then another; uncertainty reflected in the grim set of his mouth.

The place he sought, the Labyrinth's secret heart, was a place he had visited only once before, many years ago, after the death of his parents. It was not a place he had hoped to visit again, but that didn't matter now. What mattered was finding his way, and he was having a decidedly difficult time of it.

Frustration made him impatient, and impatience made him frustrated. He let out a "Pah!" of disgust and kicked sharply at a low urn that was balancing a dull brass ball in its mouth. The ball naturally took that opportunity to liberate itself from the falling urn and, having done so, rolled off perpendicular to the fuming King, directly into a solid-seeming wall. His expression still dark, Jareth idly watched the ball as it hit the wall and disappeared entirely. This did catch his interest, as he was unaware of any wall illusions in this area. Stepping over to the suspect section of wall, he carefully pushed his gloved hands against it, preparing to fall forward, and was mildly annoyed when the very solid-seeming wall pushed right back against him and held him up very well indeed.

"Gah!" He squatted down and pushed closer to the ground.

_Flup._ Above his head there came a peculiar sound. Jareth paused in his unsuccessful wall-pushing and tilted his head back, eyes scanning upwards. A foot or so above his head, two stones had rolled back to reveal large, liquidy eyes with eerie green pupils that rolled to and fro within their confines. The sight made the Goblin King's stomach go a bit queasy, but he nevertheless quickly stood up and stepped back to take in a better view.

"I say, what have we here?" Not expecting an answer, the usually imperturbable king barely stifled a gasp as another, larger section of wall rolled up within itself to reveal a dark and craggy opening that he very much feared was quite probably a mouth. "You're none of mine!" he hissed, taking the very smallest step backward.

The strange, wet, wall eyes had stopped their rolling and seemed to focus on him. From the mouth opening, an ominous rumbling made his blood run cold.

Fight or flee? It wasn't a question. The King of the Goblins would never back down. He drew himself up to his full, substantial height and raised one gloved hand. A shimmering crystal appeared on his fingertips. The rumbling increased until the walls around him trembled, sending showers of dust and pebbles down around his feet.

A thought occurred to him then, and he paused, crystal still balanced high, and considered the gruesome visage before him. "Are you the door?" he queried calmly.

The rumbling ceased.

The eerie green eyes bored into him, then abruptly snapped shut.

Instantly the mouth widened, stretching higher and higher until it was high enough for him to pass into with only a small stoop. Mist curled about his boots as he cautiously stepped through into darkness…and was swallowed whole.

**Above (Now)**

"There aren't any good Plan B's, Tim," muttered Wanda. "If they were good, they'd be Plan A's!"

"And what about him?" asked Carlos, jerking a thumb towards their guest, who was busy trying on Wanda's underwear and cackling in a fashion that was sure to get the attention of their neighbors sooner or later. _Later_, thought Carlos, _please later!_

"We'll take him with us," declared Wanda, looking around for a box or sturdy bag to stuff the little creature into.

Tim looked dubious, but Carlos had to agree. The thing, whatever it was, certainly didn't belong in their house. Taking a deep breath, he lunged for the creature. It squawked terribly and tried to twist out of his grasp, but he held it firmly and plunged it, bright blue undies and all, into the reusable grocery bag Wanda held out to him.

"Wait," said Tim, "I'm confused. Where are we going?" He eyed the bag nervously, hands shoved into the front pockets of his jeans as though he were afraid he might otherwise grab it from Carlos.

Carlos was holding it carefully folded over at the top. The creature inside squirmed and snorted, but was otherwise quiet.

"Give me that!" Wanda grabbed the bag and made for the door.

Carlos and Tim exchanged glances. _Women!_ Tim seemed to say and Carlos frowned. "The park, Tim," he said, "we're going to the park."

"What's at the park?" asked Tim, mentally running through a list of forgotten but incredibly urgent errands he needed to run. "Shouldn't we, like, call the dogcatcher or something?"

Carlos clapped a hand to Tim's shoulder. "That was no _dog_, dude." He lowered his voice to a whisper. They could hear Wanda downstairs yelling at them to hurry the heck up already. "I think it was a _goblin_."

Tim gave a hesitant laugh, unsure if his friend was joking. "A _what_?"

Carlos shrugged and dropped his hand back to his side. "A goblin. Sarah told me about them last summer when we were alone here." He blushed. "I mean, you know, when we'd sit around after dinner. She was making these sketches of weird creatures and I asked what they were."

_Tim! _came an angry voice, _Carlos! Come on!_

Tim looked Carlos in the eyes. "There's no such thing as goblins. What are you, eight?"

Carlos' expression darkened. "Just forget it and let's go." He pushed past Tim and out the door.

Tim shook his head. His friends were all nuts, what could he say? With a last sigh for patience, he followed them.

**Then**

Magic was real. Magic was really, truly, undeniably real.

Sarah had the proof all around her, glowing softly in the shadows beneath the tree. As her weeping had slowed and finally stopped, she had gradually become aware of movement. She still lay face-down, pillowing her face on her hands, nose almost touching the thick mattress of pine needles. At the edges of her vision, bright forms flitted close to the ground. Slowly, she turned her head and raised up slightly, propping herself on her elbow. Each bright shape revealed itself to be vaguely human-like in form, but enclosed in a sphere of colored light. Each sphere danced up and down, occasionally winking out altogether and then reappearing a few feet away like cartoon fireflies.

She pushed herself fully upright, sitting cross-legged, and gingerly stretched one hand out toward one of the lights.

Just before she made contact, she pulled back, remembering faeries and fearing another painful bite. Still, she leaned closer.

"What are you?" she whispered.

The bright forms continued their movement, but in response one winked into being mere inches from her nose.

_We're Wisps._

The answer formed in her mind, a voice thin and breathy, but clear. She shook her head in amazement, a wild joy rearing up within her heart. She forced it down, feeling the need for caution. She was very likely dreaming, after all.

"Where are you from?" she asked them, though in truth she already knew the answer.

When it came, she was unsurprised.

_We come from the Labyrinth._

"So I'm not crazy," murmured Sarah. "I was really there."

The Wisps were silent, but she took their enthusiastic bobbing up and down for agreement. Her thoughts were racing. She had so many questions! Her emotions were a wild roller coaster as well, running from joy to anger and back again.

She had been sad when her new friends disappeared from her room that night without saying goodbye. She had felt even worse when she found she was unable to contact them again. She finally assumed only one of two possibilities made sense: either she didn't actually need them anymore and that's why they couldn't hear her, or she had dreamed the whole thing up. As she still felt desperately in need of them, the latter must be the truth. It had been a crushing conclusion and one that had shadowed her for the past several years.

"Why are you here?" She nearly choked on the words. "Why now?"

Another Wisp winked into being right before her face.

_Look._

Sarah stared at the little creature and as she watched, the bright sphere grew opaque. Colors shifted and swirled over its surface, then abruptly resolved themselves into a picture. Sarah stared intently at the scene it presented: a pretty little garden, she presumed somewhere within the Labyrinth, with a small pool at its center. The colors swirled again and a new scene emerged: a ruined room, crumbling stone, open to the sky. Another swirl of color, faster now, as yet another scene revealed itself: a shabby throne, draped with dusty fabric, empty save for a cluster of bright white feathers, carelessly drifted along its seat. The colors swirled again…

"Wait!" cried Sarah. "Stop! I don't understand what you're trying to show me."

_Look. _

The swirling colors formed yet another picture and this time she glimpsed someone familiar.

"Hoggle!" she spoke his name, but within the Wisp, his figure did not hear her. Her old companion looked pale and afraid. He stood on the steps of the great Castle Beyond the Goblin City, nervously kneading the hem of his vest and darting glances upward, as though he expected at any moment to see the walls of the castle come crashing down upon his head. As she watched, the figure of Hoggle seemed to shrink into itself, cowering down on the worn stone steps as a huge shadow passed over his head. Sarah could hear no sound from the strange scene before her, but the noise must have been deafening, for in the picture Hoggle clapped his hands over his ears and made a mad rush for the castle door.

All at once, the picture faded and the little Wisp winked away to join the others.

_Remember, Sarah. Remember._


	5. Chapter 5

**Now**

The woods in which Sarah now found herself seemed lost to shadow. Where there should have been trees, black shapes towered above the path. The sky was a dim grayish green, bloated with clouds and murky as bog water. Other large shapes hulked to either side of her, but try as she might, she could discern no features when she squinted at them. The only thing she could see with any clarity, was the figure standing in the center of the path, just ahead of her.

"Toby?" Sarah slowly moved closer. It couldn't be Toby. Toby was a world away, safe with his parents, and yet...

The boy on the path nodded his head and began moving backward, eyes never leaving Sarah's face. He didn't speak, but he didn't let her get any closer.

"Toby? Wait!" Sarah quickened her pace, not quite running. Ahead of her, the boy was moving swiftly backward; moving much too fast for someone still facing her. She stopped. "Toby?" Doubt crept into her voice and she became aware of other movement, off to the side of the path and now also, behind her.

When she stopped moving, the boy also stopped. The darkness was oppressive, unnatural. She was suddenly afraid to turn her back on him. With unsteady steps, she inched backward. She could feel the shadows thickening around her. "If you're Toby," she said shakily, "just follow me... okay?" She continued her retreat toward the wall. Something was wrong.

The boy opened his mouth and black smoke poured out of him, coiling about his head and neck and seeming to _unmake_ him. Seconds later, he was a tower of inky blackness, spreading up and out over the path, tendrils beginning to move toward her.

A little sob escaped Sarah's lips and she wrenched her gaze from the not-Toby and turned around. Ignoring the encroaching shadows, she sprinted for the wall. It was close, but so was...

"No!" The word was torn from her throat as something icy wrapped around her legs and sent her sprawling forward onto the ground. Hands scrabbling in the dirt, she risked a glance backward and instantly knew she had made a mistake.

A towering pillar of shifting black smoke, punctuated here and there with little sparks of light, reared up behind her. Tendrils like vines had wrapped around her legs and where they touched her, all feeling was lost. Tighter and tighter they wrapped, slowly pulling her backward.

A sudden groan filled the air and the ground beneath her trembled and shook. She felt herself rising, still being pulled but now also pushed from below. To either side, enormous boulders reared out of the darkness and scraped past her, harrying the shadows. With an audible _snap_, the tendrils holding her broke beneath their weight and the pillar of smoke was forced back away from her.

The instant her legs were free, she sprang to her feet and leaped forward and down. The wall was a man's length away and she reached it despite the numbness and shakiness of her limbs. At the opening, she peered back the way she had come. The towering smoke figure was losing consistency as still more boulders rolled onto the path and forced it backwards.

Stunned and exhausted, she fell back through the opening into the Labyrinth's outer corridor. Once within its sheltering walls, she somehow knew she was safe.

_Well, _she thought wryly, _I guess that was a bad choice._

On the wall above her, the gander-weed nodded its agreement.

**Elsewhere (before)**

His senses were sharp. His senses were keen. His senses had no rival within the Underground. Of that, Sir Didymus had no doubt, though he was, of course, far too modest to be heard asserting such things in public.

A quick search of the immediate castle vicinity failed to reveal any clues, unless a lack of clues could be, in itself, considered a clue. Mulling over this sticky point occupied the little fox's thoughts as he gathered Ambrosius and prepared for the journey home. They were a quiet party, dog and fox, and unless the rumblings of stomachs could be counted as conversation, nobody spoke. Not, reflected Didymus, that Ambrosius really _spoke_; at least, not in words.

Musing on his companion's lack of verbosity led him to thoughts of the Goblin King. His Majesty, thought the little knight with admiration, _never _lacked for words. Oft-times the words of the Goblin King poured so readily from his royal lips, that it became a sort of music, encouraging his subjects in their various tasks, be they scrubbing, or fetching, or bathing in the bog. Of course, it was not unheard of for His Majesty to burst into genuine song, though Sir Didymus couldn't recall the last time he had actually witnessed such a thing.

No, he reflected, the Goblin King had been unhappy for many years. It was perhaps not surprising that he would disappear. Though, puzzled the little fox, it _was_ rather odd that he would disappear with all of his goblins. Why just last month, over tea, the king had been speaking (rather wistfully, thought Didymus) of the Heart of the Labyrinth. The little garden had been missing for untold years. Didymus himself could only vaguely remember the place (it was small, he recalled, and rather wet) and couldn't imagine why His Majesty would be concerned with it. As rightful monarch of the Labyrinth, his liege had no need to visit the Heart, why he could merely...

Abruptly, Didymus reigned in Ambrosius, his thoughts all a-whirl. One thing came clear: he knew where the Goblin King was.

**Nearby (before)**

As he expected, the mouth disgorged him into brightness; a square garden, filled with flowers and bedecked with ribbons and garlands of various hues and fragrances. Another time, he might have explored it with a sense of wonder. It was not the dilapidated, lonely place he remembered. Another time he might have succumbed to the welcoming couches and the attentions they promised, but not now. Not that they were intended for him anyway. He frowned. It was too late for that.

Jareth had eyes only for the little pool.

Ignoring every enticement of the small garden, he made straight for its center: the Heart of the Labyrinth.

Kneeling carefully at the side of the pool, Jareth stripped off one glove and tentatively pushed his bare hand into the water up to the wrist. Vapor swirled around and up his arm, cool and wet, caressing him where it met bare skin. A light tingling sensation began at his submerged fingertips, spreading slowly until his entire hand was encompassed. He grimaced slightly as the sensation increased, becoming painful, but he did not pull his hand away. Not yet.

The vapor sliding along his upper body was becoming more substantial, almost solid. It slid beneath his clothing, an increasingly icy intrusion that froze his skin where it touched. As the temperature around him dropped, his exhaled breath hung in the air as little clouds, blending with mist from the pool until he was completely enshrouded. Still, he waited.

When the contact finally came, it was sudden, violent, an assault on his body and mind. His hand in the pool felt ablaze, his upper body painfully frozen, as an alien presence pushed itself into his consciousness with an inner roar that sent him reeling forward. The cool water grabbed hungrily at him as he sunk like a stone to the bottom of the pool, unable to move, to struggle. The roaring in his mind grew to such intensity that he blacked out. Then, he knew no more.

* * *

He was floating in blackness, but he was not alone.

An alien voice, sharp and insistent, made itself known to him.

_What would you PAY, Goblin King?_

Jareth winced at its volume, finding it difficult to focus on the words.

The voice rang out again, impossibly loud in his mind.

_What would you __**PAY**_, _Goblin King?_

An involuntary grunt of pain escaped his lips as the force of the words crashed into him. He struggled to remember what he needed to do.

It was so very hard to think.

It was so very hard to…

_**What would you PAY, Goblin King?**_

The voice roared through his beleaguered brain like a tornado, catching any stray thought he might try to form and spiraling it up and away from him. For the first time in his long existence, Jareth knew what it was to be truly helpless, and the weight of that realization demanded his immediate surrender.

For the space of a heartbeat, he teetered on the brink of that surrender. _Anything_ was on his lips, but he did not speak it. Remembrance barreled into him and, like the sun after a storm, all was illuminated.

He knew this game.

_Say your right words, _he thought to himself.

And he almost had.

**Above (Now)**

"What're we gonna do? What're we gonna do? What're we gonna do?!?" shrieked Wanda to no one in particular. The strange not-sun hung above them, tinting the sky a creamsicle orange.

Tim hunkered down at her feet with the bulging grocery bag. The creature within had turned strangely silent. "Oh, this is NOT good," he muttered, darting nervous glances at their surroundings. It felt like they had been wandering in the woods for hours, but the place, the _door_, that Wanda and Carlos seemed to think should appear had failed to do so. To make matters worse, they now seemed to be lost.

Carlos jumped down from a nearby rock ledge where he had been attempting to get their bearings, his face grim.

"Well?" demanded Wanda.

"I don't get it," he mused. "This whole area seems screwy. Nothing is where it should be."

"And what's with that weird sun?" piped up Tim. "Where's this door, anyway?" He eyed the remains of the path with suspicion; an incredibly dark mist or fog had crept in while they were stopped. It didn't seem natural. It didn't _move_ like fog. He watched it swirl around Carlos' legs, keeping his own well clear of it.

Carlos rubbed his chin with his thumb and index finger, wishing he had a beard to stroke like some third-rate B-movie villain. "I think," he began slowly, "that we may have already gone through it." His eyes narrowed to inky slits. He had a sudden vision of himself in a long black cape, like a cartoon vampire. "Yes," he declared theatrically, "I'm certain of it!"

Tim and Wanda's eyes grew wide as saucers, their mouths dropping open in a comical fashion. Carlos suppressed the urge to laugh evilly and rub his hands together. This was followed almost instantly by a stronger urge to slap himself silly. What the heck was he thinking? Cartoon villain? What the heck? He glanced down at the mist climbing his legs.

"Guys," he said nervously, "I'm feeling a little…strange."

Inside the grocery bag, humming began.

**Then (earlier)**

He didn't want to see her, but if he must, then he would.

But he didn't have to be happy about it.

Jareth, King of the Goblins, traveled by foot. It gave him time to think. It gave him a chance to see what the Labyrinth was becoming without him. It delayed the inevitable moment when he would have to see her again.

All the time that had passed since their last encounter, ten years Above and even longer Underground, and he still carried her with him. He still _hoped._

He was a fool.

Now she was on her way back to his kingdom and the best he could hope for was that she would abdicate her doubtless _unwanted_ connection to the Labyrinth and leave him in peace. He knew she would not come back a third time, but at least things would return to the way they had been before he ever laid eyes on her. That was something. He hardened his heart as best he could and moved quickly along. The sooner this was all over, the better.

He descended an uneven stairway and stopped, head cocked to one side, listening. In the back of his mind, a dark voice whispered. He did his best to ignore it, but it was persistent. _Not for you, _the voice said, _never for you._ "Be quiet!" said Jareth and resumed walking. She would be in the forest, where the border was weak. That was where he must go.

_You won't find her, _taunted the shadowy voice in his head, _you'll lose everything. Again._

Jareth's features twisted in a sneer. "I've already lost everything." His gut wrenched with the truth of those words and despite himself, he slowed. It hardly mattered, did it, where he went or what he did? A shudder ran through him, an urge to change, to fly, to go far up and away where only the crystal moon in its lonely orbit would keep him company. His steps faltered...

...from behind him, something dark and smoke-like pooled and stretched, pulling itself upward until roughly man-sized. It drifted toward the troubled king and as it floated over the stones it grew denser and took on a form.

The possession of a keen mind is both a blessing and a curse. Jareth had always found it to be so. A man of lesser intelligence might have been more successful at shutting out his surroundings. A man whose brain was not constantly analyzing and combining bits and pieces of various stimuli could live happily amidst illusion, content to trust solely to the evidence provided by his eyes. Such a man could ignore the pricking of the little hairs on the back of his neck that shouted, _turn around!_ But Jareth, even soul-weary and half-mad with loss and longing, could not help but become aware of the menace that was suddenly dogging his steps.

He turned, and confronted...himself.

True surprise, he had found, was rare. The older he became, the rarer it was. Sarah had surprised him. She had surprised him with her determination, her loyalty, her resourcefulness and her ability to touch something deep within his heart. That his heart could still be touched, _that_ had been something of a surprise as well.

Now he found that rare emotion filling him once again as he turned and saw a perfect, smiling replica of himself. He knew at once, what it was.

"Usurper!" he snarled. "You dare do this?

His doppelganger said nothing, merely went on smiling. In its mismatched eyes, such a perfect reflection of his own, darkness moved across the blue like oil on water.

Jareth growled and lunged forward, stumbling when the other vanished unexpectedly. He stood perfectly still then, listening, taking in every whisper of breeze and absorbing its secrets. His eyes lifted to the top of a nearby wall and there was his duplicate. It raised its hand and called forth a crystal.

In a flash, Jareth had moved. On his own fingertips, a crystal spun. In absolute silence, the two crystals released and each flew toward the other. Still silent, they met in an explosion of light and then came the noise, a great, howling gust of wind and fire that swept the area clean and blackened the surface of the rocks that paved it. Dust was everywhere, scouring the walls and obscuring all vision. Slowly...slowly, it settled and the air cleared.

Where there had been two, one remained. He shook himself free of dust and soot and departed without a backward glance.


	6. Chapter 6

**Part 2**

_A rhyme in time, will save you nine._

_A Rule will save you four._

_A path that bends, your sorrow mends._

_Beware the hidden door._

**Now**

For a time, she rested, slumped against the cool stones of the outer wall. There seemed to be no reason not to close her eyes for a bit, so she did, and a low rumbling came to her ears. _Thunder_, she thought idly. _I wonder if it rains in here._ Everything was so dry, she rather doubted it, but moments later a _plink_ of water hit her nose. _Oh, great._ Behind her back, the wall hummed with something. _Magic? Electricity? Do they even have electricity in the Labyrinth? _Despite her fatigue, she was genuinely intrigued. _But you know what they say, curiosity killed the cat..._

She felt a twisting sort of tug to her stomach and dizziness washed over her, a kind of inverted vertigo like you might get underwater if you lose track of which way is up and which way is down.

_Oh, God, _ she thought, _it's _moving. _I'm moving. _

Her eyes popped open. She was strangely unsurprised to be back in woods again. She took in the low clouds and the scent of rain. She swiveled her head, ignoring the protest of sore muscles. Behind her, the wall of the Labyrinth rose up, grim and silent, but she otherwise appeared to be back _outside_ of it, in her own familiar woods. _Odd. _The grassy hill and low scrub that usually fronted that unlikely place had vanished and the two worlds were seamlessly joined.

She climbed to her feet and brushed dust and glitter from her coat. Her jeans had a new rip just above the knee through which a nasty, bleeding scrape could be seen. When had she gotten that? Her hands, also, were scraped and bleeding, dirt encrusted beneath her fingernails.

In the shadows of the trees surrounding her, there was movement. She started, remembering the creature of smoke and shadow that had masqueraded as Toby. Behind her, a twig snapped and something belched loudly.

"Excuse me," said a gravelly voice and other voices quickly shushed it. "Sorry," said the voice again and the chorus of _Sssh!_ grew louder.

Sarah felt something akin to relief wash through her. It was only goblins. "All right, all right," she said, "come out where I can see you."

"Ach, sure," said yet another rough little voice, "_now_ she wants to see us." Several small goblins crawled out from the underbrush and surrounded her. She was certain many more were still lurking in the shadows.

"Can one of you explain to me..." she paused for emphasis, then spit the next words out like bullets, "what - the - _hell - _is - going - on?" Her knee was smarting and she felt tired and itchy.

The goblins nudged each other, shuffled their feet and spit on the ground, but none of them spoke, until... "Maybe _he_ can," said a fat one with dull squashed-potato features. It pointed behind Sarah. A smaller goblin squeaked with fright or excitement and an instant later she was once again alone, all her companions having melted back into the underbrush, except...

...she turned around slowly, already sure who she would find.

**Elsewhere**

Hoggle was finally able to bring the unsettling shadow to Sir Didymus' attention.

The little fox gave it a sideways glance and quickened his pace slightly. "Make haste," was all he said.

Hoggle complied. Some time later (he lost track of exactly how long it had been), Sir Didymus halted before a section of wall that resembled nothing so much as every other section of wall they had passed already. The little knight sniffed around the base of the wall, making _hmm hmm_ noises and clucking his tongue like one of the castle's many chickens.

Hoggle fidgeted. His eyes scanned surrounding walls, but their dark companion seemed to have vanished. Somehow, that made him more nervous than ever.

Didymus was still exploring the wall directly in front of them, paws touching here and there and everywhere and as far as Hoggle could see, _nothing_ was happening. A small breeze stirred and bits of glittering dust swirled up and around their legs, making Hoggle reflexively check for fairies; they did love a breeze. The little knight was humming a jaunty tune and Hoggle felt that his nerves were about as frayed as they could possibly get.

He was wrong.

Seconds later, a smallish square at the bottom of the wall slid back to reveal a tunnel. "Ah, there we go then," said Didymus crisply. He dropped to all fours and crawled inside.

Hoggle eyed the opening dubiously, weighing the probability of getting wedged within it against the relative safely of staying behind. The breeze seemed to be increasing in strength and he smelled rain in the air. That decided him; he hated to get wet.

"Wait for me!" He pushed his head into the tunnel and much to his relief, the rest of him followed. Indeed, the tunnel was roomier than it had appeared from the outside. He could just see Sir Didymus' bushy tail up ahead of him. Not wishing to lose sight of it, he quickly crawled forward, but despite his efforts, his much nimbler friend vanished in the darkness. "Didymus!" he called, but there was no answer, so he pushed forward at the very limit of his speed, ignoring the bruising scrape of his hands and knees on the rough stone.

At last a square of light came into view, growing wider and wider as he drew closer to it. With a final burst of energy, he rushed through it and tumbled out into a small, square garden. Sir Didymus was at its center, peering down into a pool of water and stroking his whiskers thoughtfully. Hoggle stood carefully and shook himself free of the worst of the dust and dirt.

"This can't be right," he said, starting towards Didymus, "King Tall and Terrible would _never_ fit through the opening. The little fox held up a paw and motioned for silence. Hoggle fell still, listening, until the small knight motioned him forward.

"We used a back door," whispered Didymus, turning back to the little pool. The water was moving uneasily, a sluggish current beginning to pull it in circles. Around them, another breeze was quickening. Bright forms flitted in agitation.

Hoggle watched the water intently. The circular current was increasing in strength, keeping pace with currents of air beginning to tug at their clothing. "What now?" he asked, one hand absently toying with the pouch Sir Didymus had given him. "There's no one here, Didymus."

The little fox pointed to the pool. "I'm afraid our liege is within." Thunder rumbled above them and the wind grew stronger still. Sir Didymus nodded towards the pouch. "We'll need the crystal, my brother."

"Crystal?" Hoggle didn't like the sound of that. Crystals weren't for the likes of him. On the other side of the pool, a puddle of shadow with no obvious source was forming. He swallowed hard. Whatever they were going to do, they'd better do it fast. He was struck, suddenly, by Didymus' words. The king was in the pool? "Is he...alive?" He indicated the water, an odd sinking feeling making him regret his breakfast.

"I don't know," said Sir Didymus sadly and the first drops of rain began to fall.

**Nearby (before)**

_I have re-ordered Time, I have turned the world upside-down and I have done it all for you._

Even deaf and blind, breathless and frozen, the King of the Goblins was far from helpless.

With the magical equivalent of moving mountains, space and time warped. Like a sandwich from which all the filling has been snitched, the slices of time touched and the impossible was suddenly possible.

What was made, could be unmade. What was one, could be two. What was here, could be there.

* * *

"Oy," said the little worm, meeting itself inside the wall. One of it was headed in for tea while the other was headed out to observe the girl. Both chuckled. "That's a bit of all right," said one as they wriggled past each other.

* * *

Goblins previously in the Labyrinth found themselves in the wood and vice versa. A few less fortunate ones found themselves in an oubliette or the bog and still others met themselves coming and going; confusion reigned.

* * *

A formless darkness groped for the shape it desired. The door shifted as the lines of power bent and broke and reformed according to the will of their master. Hands came together and sifted shadows, storing them in a jar of ink where they were well-hidden. A message was sent and received.

**Above (Now)**

"What just happened?" asked Tim, eyeing Carlos warily. His friend wore shadow like a cloak and a scary-clown grin.

"Door! Door! Door!" The goblin in the bag burst out, trading its humming for screeching. "Door! Door! Door!" It capered madly around them and then dashed off into the gloom.

Wanda snorted and poked Tim much too hard in the shoulder. "Did you know it could _speak_?" A flash of lightning lit the darkening woods followed seconds later by a sharp crack of thunder.

"Well that's that," said Tim, wiping his hands on his jeans and gathering up the now-empty bag. "Right?"

Wanda was still staring off in the direction that the goblin had gone and didn't answer. Beneath their feet, the path shivered slightly and the air seemed to vibrate.

Tim straightened and turned toward Carlos. He froze. "Wanda?" There was no answer. "Where's Carlos?" he asked, voice quivering. Rain began to fall. He looked back toward Wanda, squinting at her through the wet and murky twilight. No one was there.

He was alone.

**Then (moments ago)**

He dropped into himself, filling his body like water in a cup. Exhilaration coursed through him and he laughed and laughed and laughed. It wouldn't last, of course, but it was all he had.

The Labyrinth and surrounding area thrummed with magic. He sensed his goblins just ahead and someone else, someone who bobbed between the currents of time like a cork on the ocean.

That she should be so close, was just another impossible thing amidst a sea of others and as such, not worthy of note.

But his hands trembled, just a bit.

With a gesture he was ready. He picked a place to wait. The walls were shifting and he need not go to her.

She would come to him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Now**

Sarah eyed the goblin king warily as he lounged against a tree just ahead. In the dim light of the shaded path, he glowed faintly, as though he had starlight beneath his skin.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, coming to a stop several feet away.

The vision in glitter and indigo smirked.

"I should ask you the same thing, Sarah." His voice was soft, seductive. He pushed himself off from the tree and strode up to her, pausing only an arm's length away.

Sarah felt dizzy. She shook her head briefly and focused her eyes on the odd bony collar of the cloak he was wearing. _Like the skeleton of some great bird_, she thought idly. _I bet that's uncomfortable._

She shook her head again, trying to focus her thoughts.

"Why are you here, goblin king?" she asked again. Her eyes seemed to turn inward. "Are you here?" she asked, very softly this time.

Jareth sighed disgustedly and reached out one leather-clad hand to very gently cup her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze.

"Just where," he spoke slowly, emphasizing each word as though speaking to a particularly dim goblin, "do you think "here" is?"

"I…I.." Sarah hesitated, still half convinced she was dreaming.

He didn't let her finish. "You're not asleep, Sarah."

He withdrew his hand and stepped back, bracing both palms on his hips in stance that clearly expressed his unwillingness to be pushed any farther.

"You can hardly be surprised to come upon the Lord of the Labyrinth strolling about his own kingdom, now can you?"

"Your kingdom?" sputtered Sarah, stepping forward despite herself, eyes flashing. "This is hardly _your kingdom_, Goblin King. It's bad enough sending your minions to tag along after me. " Several small heads popped up along the path and excited babbling could be heard. "I want to know why _you_ are here." The babbling grew louder, but Sarah ignored it, forcing herself to continue their eye contact.

"Quiet!" roared Jareth, making a slicing motion with his left hand that abruptly cut off the noise from the goblin horde. Idly, Sarah wondered if he had sent them back to the labyrinth. A muffled sneeze from somewhere behind her right knee convinced her that he hadn't.

"_My_ kingdom, Sarah." He purred, gesturing to the forest around them. "All you see, belongs to me." His expression was smug and his words had a song-like cadence.

Sarah fought a surprising urge to giggle like a schoolgirl. "Rhymes, Goblin King?"

His face darkened. "Do not mock me, Sarah." The air crackled. He was somehow behind her, leaning forward, voice soft and menacing. "Look around you, precious thing. _You_ are the trespasser here."

Sarah swallowed hard. She would _not_ be intimidated. Slowly, she slid sideways, away from the energy that seemed to radiate from his body in disconcerting waves. Her head turned this way and that, making a great show of taking in her surroundings.

Prepared to challenge him again, she was taken aback by what she saw. With a sinking feeling, she noted the changes in the forest, in the path...and of course, it was impossible to deny the Labyrinth itself, lying in wait just ahead, curled around the woods like some great beast.

_Speaking of beasts, _thought Sarah, studying his figure through the long fall of her hair. He was still waiting for her answer, tapping one hand impatiently against his thigh. She was sore and exhausted, but...

... she struggled to suppress an electric feeling of excitement at the reinstatement of magic into her life. _Gods, she had missed it so much._

Jareth was at her side again, still frowning. "What are you playing at, Sarah?"

This time she couldn't suppress the laugh that boiled up. She felt giddy, drunk even.

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, inhaling the scents of damp, magic, and a musky spice that made her feel lightheaded.

Two strong hands on her shoulders spun her around and her eyes snapped open.

_Blast! C_ouldn't he leave her alone? He was spoiling the moment! She opened her mouth to protest that she was not _playing_ at all, but before she could get a word out he had closed the remaining distance between their respective lips with a kiss.

Sarah had never in her life been more surprised.

**Elsewhere**

Hoggle's face was ashen. Fear and disbelief warred within him, and had Sir Didymus not put a steadying paw on his shoulder, the grizzled dwarf might very well have turned tail and run back the way he had come.

He never claimed to be brave.

"Courage, friend Hoggle!" cried Didymus. "It can't…" Whatever else the little fox said was drowned out by the roar from the center of the pool. A towering waterspout was forming, gaining in strength even as they watched.

Hands clapped over his ears, Hoggle shook off Didymus' paw and pushed forward. Glitter and Wisps flew around him, but the sound from the waterspout was deafening.

At the edge of the pool, Hoggle dropped to his knees and peered into the water. He could just barely make out a figure beneath the surface.

Didymus came up behind him, whiskers slicked back by the heavy mist that hung in the air. He hooked a paw into the belt at Hoggle's waist, and planted his hind legs firmly on the wet stones around the pool. His mouth was set in a determined line, black eyes shining brightly.

Hoggle risked a glance back at the little knight, and was rewarded with a feral grin. It would seem the fox's hearing was as keen as his sense of smell.

"The crystal!" mouthed Didymus over the waterspout's roar. "Drop it in!"

The crystal hung at his hip in a leather pouch, but to get it, Hoggle would have to remove his hands from his ears. He despaired at the thought, until another struck him. Moving as quickly as his trembling fingers would allow, he used his right hand to tear two strips of damp cloth from his thin shirt. His uncapped ear burned with the noise, but the sound diminished enough for coherent thought after he stuffed the wadded strips into first one ear, than the other.

"Aaah," he sighed with relief, his hands now free to fumble with the drawstring on the leather pouch. In short order, he had the precious crystal cradled in both hands. Swirls of silver moved lazily within, but Hoggle knew better than to stare into it for very long. With a deep breath to steady him and a quickly muttered oath for courage, he gave a mighty heave and sent the orb sailing in a steep arc up and over and _into_ the raging waterspout.

There was a flash of silver light and all noise ceased.

**Nearby**

Wanda was in love with Tim.

It hadn't been a gradual realization, not at all.

No, she reflected, it had hit her all at once, like a bad cold on a Saturday.

She sneezed and tried to keep her balance, but it wasn't easy, what with the little grimy things (what had Carlos called them? oh, right, _goblins_) poking her with toilet paper tubes, chicken bones and their own disgusting tails. She was perched precariously atop a mountain of trash, one foot in an empty pickle bucket and the other buried in the rotting cushion of an old armchair. The creatures, _goblins_, were jeering and jumping, apparently trying to get her to come down. _Yeah,_ she suppressed a shudder, _I don't think so._

"Go away!" She waved at one who had gotten too close and nearly toppled herself over in the process. She felt an unfamiliar emotion pooling in her stomach like lead. It was only a matter of time until they got to her, and then what? What would they do? Eat her? Turn her into one of them? She wasn't sure which would be worse. The back of her throat burned with stifled sobs and Tim's face danced in front of her eyes. She was probably going to be some ugly goblin's dinner and then she'd never see him again and he probably wouldn't even come to her funeral because she was always so mean to him and...

"Excuse me, dearie," said a creaky voice below her.

Wanda started, bursting the bubble of self-pity that had surrounded her. "Wha...?" The goblins below her had grown quiet, well, quiet_er_, and parted to let another figure through. A stooped goblin crone was addressing her, peering up at Wanda from beneath a tangle of grey-green hair.

"I said excuse me." The crone smiled, revealing sharp and surprisingly white teeth. "Never mind them," she said, indicating the other goblins with a wave of her hand. "You come on down, poor little lamb, and we'll fix you right up." In the deepening twilight, she almost seemed comforting, like a favorite grandmother.

"Fix me up?" asked Wanda. _Like with potatoes and carrots? With rags and wrinkled skin? _"What do you mean?"

She shifted uncomfortably, wondering again how she came to be where she was and pinching herself to make sure she couldn't just wake the heck up.

The old goblin laughed, a dry scrape of a sound that reminded Wanda of Tim dragging their trash can down to the curb. "Come down," said the crone again, and beckoned with one long, gnarled finger. "You're tired and hungry, dearie, and it will be dark soon."

Wanda swallowed, a lump in her throat. She _was_ tired and hungry. As if in agreement, her stomach rumbled loudly. "Can you show me the way out of here?" she asked, "Can you help me find my friends?" She tentatively lowered herself down the trash heap, disengaging herself one careful piece at a time.

"All in good time, my dove, all in good time." The crone reached up to help her down. "Rest first, my lamb, and food." She waved vaguely and patted Wanda's hand. "It's not far." Another goblin reached out toward Wanda but the old one slapped him sharply and steered Wanda past them and out around the edge of the junkyard.

Wanda felt her eyes growing heavy as they walked and her head seemed to be stuffed full of cotton. A brief rest did seem entirely sensible and she was sure Tim, wherever he was, would agree.

"That's a good girl," rasped the crone at her side, linking her spindly arm with Wanda's. "His majesty's been looking for you such a long time, Sarah. Won't he be pleased that you turned up with me?" She cackled and coughed, but Wanda, half-asleep, had stopped listening.

Above them, thunder rumbled.

**Above**

Tim blanched and his normally dark chocolate skin went the color of the fake stuff in the grocery bulk section. He looked down quickly at his own legs, but though they blended in perfectly with the lengthening shadows, he could still make them out. He was still all there. That was something, he supposed.

He sucked in breath to call again for his friends, "Carlos! Wanda!" and for good measure, he tossed in "Sarah!" though he really had no idea if she was in the woods or not. His wide brown eyes never stopped moving over the path before him, the trees around him, searching for some sign of them. While he called, he slowly strode forward, rain dripping from his hair and running down around his collar to soak his t-shirt. Somewhere off ahead, an owl hooted and he shivered. He needed to find his friends quickly. The last thing he wanted was to be in the woods when night fell.

He pushed through the misty gloom, cursing the poor visibility under his breath. His thoughts dipped and wheeled above his head like seagulls, so noisy and distracting that it was no wonder he didn't notice the wall until he bumped right into it. "Crap!" He reeled back, rubbing his nose. "What the hell...?" The wall rose up several feet above his head, solid and imposing. It cut directly across the path he was traveling and appeared to extend indefinitely in either direction. Tim felt his stomach sink into his shoes.

There was no way to go on.

* * *

Carlos felt magnificent.

Strong, powerful, taller and lighter and utterly one with the shadows, he glided through the dark, wet woods. All around him, life _throbbed_. He could feel it, all of it, so small and bright beneath him. He forgot his fear, forgot his misgivings, forgot his friends, forgot everything except..._there_.

One spark, brightly burning, pulled him forward through the trees. _Her_. She was the one he sought, the one he longed for. She would fill the emptiness and together, they would be whole. They would rule forever and those who had disappointed them, left them hollow, would be punished; would perish. _Together_. He moved faster, losing form and becoming wholly shadow as he sped towards his goal.

**Then**

Jareth could have filled a book with his thoughts about time.

A very _boring_ book, but then, he reflected, someone had to keep these things straight. Mortals were fond of comparing time to a river, and so it was: swift and deep with an irreversible current that carried everything in it relentlessly along. But mortals never took the analogy far enough, never saw below the surface of things, never considered the individual eddies that might form, that might carry one temporarily back where one had already been.

Small eddies were harmless, a distraction at best, useful on occasion. Large ones were dangerous. Anyone caught might find himself split, trapped, unable to seal the divide, doomed to swirl forever in place while loved ones moved past and away. No, it was no idle undertaking, the re-ordering of time. In all his many years, he had never caused more than a ripple. He was...careful.

_If only...if only..._ the stars shifted, ever so slightly, like a cat that stood and stretched, padded in a circle, and settled again.

With a gasp, his eyes opened to darkness and water filled his mouth. Something pushed from below, moving him up, up, up towards a rushing noise that filled his ears. Sparks flew around him, cool and bright and his limbs burned.

He was surfacing, but he was far from whole.


	8. Chapter 8

**Now**

"I'm still in the Labyrinth."

It wasn't a question. Brushing her hand self-consciously over her just-kissed lips, Sarah tried and failed to look unimpressed by this new knowledge.

Jareth, hands still on her shoulders, smirked knowingly. "Of course."

He leaned into her, whispering next to her ear, "I've been expecting you."

Sarah looked up sharply, sensing the lie. She felt certain he _hadn't_ been expecting her, at least not until very recently.

"Take your hands off me!" she snapped, then, seeing his eyebrows arch, she added, "please." _Danger, Sarah, proceed with caution._

His expression didn't change, but his eyes sparkled with mischief. Nodding briefly, he removed his hands and stepped back a pace. "As you wish," was all he said.

"But I didn't," remarked Sarah coolly, "wish, that is." She was back in control, no bull-shit Sarah Williams flushing out the weak excuses from her charges.

"No?" offered Jareth. His pale skin may as well have been ice.

"No", she confirmed. "I never _wished_ to come here. I never saw a door or a gate or anything…" She hesitated just a bit, trying to remember how she had come to be in the Labyrinth the first time around. _Oh, right. _ She sighed and let her gaze drop to his lips.

His lips. _Their_ lips. Touching. _Oh Gods, she was blushing._

"Why did you kiss me?" she demanded, hoping her cheeks weren't noticeably red.

Jareth made a noise dangerously like a snort and shrugged. "It seemed like a good idea at the time." His eyes raked her from head to toe and back again. "You've changed, Sarah. Surely you're not afraid of a kiss anymore?"

Now she did blush vividly, remembering how she had run from him in the crystal ballroom years ago, certain that he was about to kiss her; half wanting him to, half hoping he wouldn't, and all the time the sense that she was forgetting something vital.

Toby, as it turned out.

Still, the past was the past. Wasn't it the present she should concern herself with? The present and all of its crazy magic, its wild and unpredictable men and their labyrinthine charms? _Well, one man. One extremely dangerous man._

She turned from him, still silently watching her, and moved towards the Labyrinth. As she did so, an icy wind entangled her, bringing with it kiss of smoke and rain. Without turning around again, she asked, "What am I supposed to do? Why am I here?" Soft footsteps approached and her every nerve tingled.

"Let me show you, Sarah." Powerful arms wrapped around her, pulling her just slightly off-balance, enough that she had to lean into them or topple over altogether. The breath of the Goblin King was once more warming her ear and though she knew she should pull away, she didn't _want_ to. She really didn't. A gloved hand was stroking her hair now, like one might soothe a startled cat, and another hand had snaked around her waist, holding her fast. "Will you come with me?" he asked, continuing to pet her. "Will you come with me, pretty Sarah?"

_Pretty Sarah, pretty Sarah. _Half-lulled into agreement, some sixth sense kicked into high gear, wresting control of her unwitting body and acting on it like a bucket full of ice water. _Sarah! Wake the hell up!_ Sharp fingers dug into her side and the arms that had seemed to support, now simply confined.

With a gasp, she wrenched herself free. Night was falling fast and her gut told her that wherever he wanted to take her was not where she wanted to be. "I don't know you," she said, twisting away from him.

His laugh was strangely hollow. "Are you so sure, Sarah?" An icy wind ruffled the feather-like points of his hair.

Sarah was torn, still dazed and sore and finding it difficult to think clearly. "I don't know," she whispered, and behind her, long shadows merged, serpentine heralds of the coming night.

**Elsewhere**

Hoggle blinked, rubbed the water from his eyes and blinked again.

In the center of what was once again a shallow ornamental pool, a very bedraggled goblin king was sitting up.

_He's breathing, _thought Hoggle wonderingly. This was followed almost immediately by the urge to back out of the little garden, as quickly and quietly as he could. Jareth hadn't noticed him yet. If he could just…

Behind him, Sir Didymus gave a polite cough.

_Fargle-bargle_, thought Hoggle as the eyes of the goblin king swiveled in their direction.

"Hogwart!" came the swift command. "Don't just stand there, help me up!"

"It's Hoggle," groaned Hoggle, stepping forward to lend a hand. The goblin king grabbed his arm to steady himself as he rose to his feet and stepped, dripping water, out of the pool. Expecting to be then released, the little dwarf nearly toppled head over heels as his king maintained his firm hold, pulling him forward.

Leaning in, Jareth's voice was low but powerful. "Where is she?"

Hoggle blinked again, somewhat stupidly he feared, as he tried to imagine who "she" was.

Behind him, Sir Didymus cleared his throat.

To Hoggle's surprise, Jareth raised his eyes and peered over his shoulder at the furry knight.

"I think Sire," proffered his friend, "that you will find milady is with the goblins."

Jareth quirked an eyebrow at that, but released Hoggle and rocked back on his soggy heels. "Which goblins?" he inquired in a tone that suggested he already knew the answer.

Didymus cocked his head. "Why all of them, Sire, of course."

"Then there is no time to lose." With a gesture, he was dry again, clothed in effervescent midnight, light and shadow.

He made to leave, but turned once more to the two small figures, dwarf and fox, who still watched him.

"Sir Didymus," he commanded, "you must guard the Way Back."

The little knight snapped to attention. "Yes, your majesty!"

Jareth's eyes then raked over the other figure eyeing him warily. "Higgle," he spoke firmly, "I may have further need of your... assistance... as well. Go to my castle and await my signal."

The little dwarf began to stammer a question, but was waved into silence.

A crystal formed on the Goblin King's fingertips, and he raised it high, pausing just once more to throw a warning out. "Do not fail me!" Then he was gone.

"It's Hoggle!" muttered Hoggle, without any conviction at all, to the now-empty air before him.

**Nearby**

Wanda let herself be led to a different mountain of junk. Through half-closed eyes she noted the door in the side and had presence of mind enough to be surprised when she was ushered through it. The scene that met her eyes surprised her into temporary wakefulness: a cozy little room, complete with soft bed, rocking chair and a fireplace in which a small blaze crackled merrily. "Oh," she breathed, eyes drawn to the depths of the pillow-laden bed.

The goblin crone chuckled. "Tis a far cry, to be sure, from the grandness ye'll be havin' after the wedding." She pushed gently on Wanda's back until the exhausted girl stumbled forward, steering her straight for the downy bed.

"Wedding?" Tim's face again swam before her eyes. "Yes," she mumbled sleepily, "yes, yes, yes..." She fell back and let the old goblin pull off her shoes and cover her with soft quilts, her mind already dreaming of marching down the aisle with her arm linked in Tim's.

"Ach, lassie-me-lamb," said the crone, "sleep now." She tucked the covers tightly around the dreaming girl. Her creased face was lined with satisfaction and she hummed to herself, a very old song that no longer had a name, as the oddly-placed stars winked on in the night sky.

* * *

_There._

He was exultant. He had found her at last.

That she consorted with shadows, not unlike himself, was of no concern. She was a peach, ripe for the picking, and pick her he would.

He burned with desire for her, imaginary flames of it licking his non-existent limbs. If he could have taken her right then and there, he would have. He very nearly did, allowing his smoky tendrils to wind, all unnoticed, about her feet and legs. The blood, the life, that pulsed there was echoed in the living walls around him. Like a vampire, he would feed on her and in the process, he would join her soul with his, what little of it there was.

_Oh yes. There would be no escape this time, no shirking of her duty. She would be his. Forever._

**Above**

Tim was shivering, curled up in a ball next to the enormous wall and dozing fitfully. With night rapidly falling, he had made a flash decision to strike out away from the path, following the wall in the hopes of locating a door or window or something that would help him. It had proved useless, and when it finally became too dark to see where he was going, he had found the driest patch of ground he could and made a miserable bed. _At least it stopped raining,_ was his last thought before sleep had claimed him.

Now, through dark dreams of being pursued across a strange maze by a formless shadow, a small voice came to him.

"Excuse me? 'allo?"

Tim opened his eyes and sat up, blearily looking around for the speaker. It must have been the middle of the night and the many stars and strangely-faceted silver moon made the dirt around him and wall beside him sparkle. He felt like he had been transported to a field of diamonds. Icy diamonds. He shivered and sneezed.

"Bless you," said the small voice.

Eyes following the sound, Tim spotted a flash of blue fluff about halfway up the wall. Moving closer, he found a large worm smiling at him. The worm had a shock of blue hair and wore a striped scarf around its neck, giving it a jaunty look. If Tim was surprised to see such a thing or have it speak to him, he was long past acknowledging it. "Thanks," he said. "Do you happen to know how to get past this wall? Or where I am exactly?" The sleep that had cocooned him was falling away now in large strands and with the return of alertness came renewed determination.

The worm cocked its head and regarded him with large wet eyes. "Blimey! Why would you want to go _past_ the wall? That way lies trouble, mate. You can count on it." The worm blinked and smiled widely. "Come on in, why don't you, and have a nice cuppa tea?"

"In?" Tim squinted at the wall behind the worm. There did seem to be a dark patch that might indicate a worm-sized opening. "You mean in the wall? How would I fit?"

The worm gave a good-natured laugh. "You just _do_, mate. It's as easy as falling off a log." It wriggled backward into the opening until only its head was visible. "See?"

"But...but..." Tim leaned, his nose very close to his companion, "but I'm _big_!" He brought a finger up and wagged it in front of the opening as if to demonstrate his size, causing the little worm to pop its head back into the wall. "Er, sorry." He moved back slightly, lowering his hand.

"'s all right," said the worm, once more letting its head emerge, "just mind me 'ead." He indicated the opening with a nod. "C'mon then. Tip tap." And with that, he pulled his head back and disappeared.

_I'm dreaming,_ thought Tim bemusedly. _I'm home in bed. Any minute Carlos will shove me and tell me to stop snoring. _He gave the loose skin between his thumb and pointer finger a sharp pinch, but nothing significant occurred; he was still cold, damp and lost. "Well," he said aloud, "nothing ventured, nothing gained." He closed his eyes, pictured the opening where the worm had gone, and leaned forward, expecting to smack his head against the stones.

Naturally, that's exactly what happened. "Ouch!" He sat back on his heels, rubbing his forehead. Great, now he'd have _two_ lumps.

The little worm poked its head outside once more and gave him a disgusted look. "Not like that, mate," it said, "never like _that._"

"You said it was easy," accused Tim.

The worm chuckled. "It _is_ easy, only yer not doin' it right."

Tim shook his head. "You never told me any _right_ way. I think maybe you're trying to trick me for some reason."

"Tsk tsk," admonished the worm, "what a lot of rot. Look, just stand up, think about where you want to go, and step forward." It grinned at him. "And remember to mind me 'ead."

Tim climbed slowly to his feet, determined he would only try it one more time. He had a horror of feeling like a fool and events of the past twelve hours had already made him feel quite foolish enough. This time he didn't close his eyes. He just fixed his gaze on the worm's tunnel, took a deep breath, and...

...stepped into darkness.

**Then**

With an ear to the wind, Jareth collapsed in a pile of glitter and silk, only to rise again with the snowy white feathers of a barn owl. Such freedom was delicious and he reveled in the soaring flight, deliberately heedless of his direction.

But it couldn't last.

Anger was a rough stone lodged beneath his ribs. No matter how he shifted and stretched his wings, he couldn't shake it off. He'd been so very, very foolish and he knew the cost, knew how much he had already paid for his negligence. He could feel the jagged edges in his soul where bits of him had been ripped free. It was more than he would, more than he could, endure. He must be whole again, ruler of his kingdom in deed and name.

The Labyrinth had shown its darkest face. He had ignored its pain as he ignored his own, and it had rebelled and taken matters into its own hands, such as they were. It needed him still, but it no longer _wanted_ him. It sought to trap the one whose accidental crime of ignorance had left it bereft, and it had nearly been successful.

He prayed there would be no final price exacted, but he very much feared for a certain young woman ensnared in the mare's nest that was their joint creation.


	9. Chapter 9

**Now**

Like a shade being drawn over the sky, darkness fell. The change from twilight to pure night was so abrupt, Sarah felt as though she and the Goblin King and everything around them had been slammed into an inkwell.

The goblins in the underbrush had fallen silent and tendrils of mist rose from the damp path to twine about their legs.

Once more he reached out to her and she reflexively drew back.

"Tsk tsk, Sarah." A shadowy hand caught her wrist and pulled her forward. "You really must come inside with me now. It won't do to have you wandering around out here in the dark."

Sarah swore beneath her breath and stumbled slightly, pushing out with her free hand against his chest. "Damn it, Goblin King, get the hell off of me!" It was disconcerting to be wrestling with him like this. With the visibility so poor, she might as well be striking at shadows.

And even as she thought it, he lost substance. Her hand pushing against him seemed to sink beneath his skin, but instead of warmth there was only a creeping cold that froze her fingers.

"Sarah..." His voice was thin and frayed, as though he was struggling to be heard. His hand on her wrist began to slip. "Sarah..." he said again. Above them, a jagged streak of lightning briefly lit the sky and illuminated his pale face.

Sarah gasped to see the darkness swirling beneath his skin, like something was overtaking him from within. Her struggle to free herself intensified. There was another flash, and she could see past him..._gods, through him_...to the wall of the Labyrinth a short distance away.

Another flash, and his face, drawn now with some torment she couldn't begin to guess, moved close to her even as he released her wrist. "Run Sarah." His breath was cool and thready. "_Run!_"

With a soft choking sound, Sarah stumbled past him and set her sights on the wall ahead.

**Elsewhere**

"He might have said _thank you_," grumbled Hoggle as he strode alongside Didymus through a series of passageways back toward the castle at the center of the labyrinth.

"My brother," asked the little fox, "would you expect thanks from the very wind itself?"

Hoggle snorted in disgust. "Jareth's full of hot air all right, but he's not the wind."

His companion merely glanced at him as they hurried along. "Think you not?"

An errant breeze chose that moment to spin around them and Hoggle shuddered nervously. "Okay, okay," he muttered. "Makes no nevermind anyhow."

"Indeed," said Didymus cheerfully, "our task is to fulfill our sacred vow of service."

At an intersection indistinguishable from the past dozen they had passed, he stopped and saluted his friend. "This is where I must depart. Go with all speed and fare thee well, old friend."

Hoggle waved him away and shuffled onward.

He wondered if he would ever understand what was happening.

_Eh, probably not._

**Nearby**

Wanda dreamed, but it wasn't _her_ dream.

_For one thing, _she thought, standing beside herself in the dream, _I would _never, EVER, _wear a dress like that. _Her dream-self was attired in a white and gauzy ball gown, all billowing lace and puffy sleeves. Her dream hair had increased in volume about 300%, her normally sleek black locks had become a huge mass of stiff, kinked waves, interwoven with silver leaves and vines. _Ghastly! I look like the virgin bride of Vidal Sassoon. Ugh. _

Dream-Wanda was standing at the edge of a garishly decorated ballroom, all curved, mirrored walls and crystal chandeliers. Revelers in similarly overblown clothing dipped and swayed, their faces concealed behind hideous masks. _It's like a Halloween party for the Renaissance Faire crowd. I wonder where the king is? _She laughed to herself, looking around for some bloated monarch in furs and sweaty breeches to come swaggering through the crowd. _Now let's see, he must be here somewhere..._ She studied the dancers a moment more, then looked back at her dream-self, still hesitating on the sidelines.

Suddenly, the face of dream-Wanda changed, eyes growing wide and lips parting slightly, body apparently feeling a pull toward the crowd. _What? What the hell?_ Wanda wanted to smack the dopey look from her dream-self, but as she moved forward, the dancers parted to reveal the approach of a tall, blonde man. The man was dressed as outlandishly as his fellows, in a glittering high-collared waistcoat of sparkling indigo, lace spilling from the neckline and sleeves and all leading the eye to a set of _very_ tight breeches and high, snug boots. His hair was a voluminous as dream-Wanda's, but opposite, light where hers was dark and sharp where hers was soft. Her dream-self was utterly rapt, eyes locked on the man's pale face and startling, mismatched eyes. _Oh come on! _Trying to shake her own shoulder, Wanda found her hands moving through like a ghost. Dream-Wanda never hesitated as the blonde man scooped her up like ice cream, whirling her out into the dance, gloved hands possessively gripping her waist. _He's going to EAT YOU!_ screamed Wanda, fruitlessly. No one could hear her. No one knew she was there, except...

...a shadowy figure detached itself from the glittering wall beside her and glided forward, growing larger as it drew close. In a room full of costumed people, perhaps this darkly-masked man with the oily black cape should not have seemed out of place, but he did. Wanda found herself instinctively pulling back, or _attempting_ to pull back, for horribly, she found her feet would not move. She opened her mouth to call out, her gaze moving rapidly between her dream-self spinning in the arms of the bright man and this dark one, every bit his opposite, closing on her. The eyes of the dark man were invisible behind an ebony mask, intricately adorned with dark gems and small black feathers; his mouth was a bloody slash in his pale face, lips turned up in a rictus of a smile.

_Oh God! Wake up, wake up, WAKE UP! _And then he was right there, reaching out with gloved hands to grasp her waist, pulling her to him. She couldn't move a muscle, except as he willed, even her traitor lips curving up in a mockery of approval. His face moved close to hers and she was suddenly certain that she didn't want to hear anything he might say. _Wake up! _Her voice was a silent scream, but her words were pulled into the vortex of his mouth; her very breath spiraling up and into that black maw.

All too soon, she had no more breath to scream and her legs gave way, pitching her forward into the dark cave of his chest, face still tipped upward, mouth connected by the siphoning of air between them. Her vision began to fade, but she still had the presence of mind to note the shattering of the crystal walls, the dark wind that swept the dancers up and out, before her world faded to black.

************

The goblin crone muttered to herself as she smoothed one gnarled hand over the sweat-beaded forehead of her sleeping visitor. The girl was deep in the dream she had sent, but for some reason, it seemed to be causing her distress. The crone clicked and cooed, not noticing the snake-like shadow that coiled up the post of the bed and spread itself like a sheet over the canopy.

Without warning, it fell upon them, eating the screams of the old goblin as it ate the dreams of her charge.

The air went cold as ice and a nasty little wind blew around the room, snuffing the candles out.

Wanda shivered but did not wake.

**Above**

Tim had to laugh. He had a high tolerance for things he didn't understand, but really, the sight before him was just so absurd, laughter seemed the only sane response.

He did indeed appear to be _inside_ the wall. _Unless maybe I finally succeeded in knocking myself unconscious with that last blow to the noggin. This is definitely crazy enough to be a dream._

He stood in a very small alcove, just off another larger room. The walls, floor and ceiling were stone, curiously lit from within and glittering like frost in sunlight. It was warm and dry, which was a blessing to be sure, but it was also kind of funky-smelling, as though lined with musty socks. Tim wrinkled his nose and sneezed.

"Bless you." The voice came from the larger room.

Tim stepped through to meet the speaker. As expected, it was the worm from outside, now about the same height as Tim, but reclining on a pile of cushions beside another, slightly smaller worm. Both smiled kindly at him, the smaller gesturing to a low table which had been set with cups and plates. "Tea?" it asked.

Tim hesitated, then moved forward. "Thanks and, er, no thanks." He moved to an empty cushion as indicated by the larger worm, and gratefully sank down onto its spongy surface. His stomach felt queasy.

"I...uh...don't feel that great." He covered his mouth with one hand and tried to avoid looking at his hosts.

"Tich, love, you're just a wee bit under from the change. Tea will fix you right up." The smaller worm nudged a brimming cup with the segmented tip of her tail.

Tim eyed the bluish tea dubiously, his stomach giving a painful lurch. "I don't think..." he began, but the larger worm interrupted.

"Drink up, Mate," he said, "The missus is spot on, she is." The blue-haired worm nodded affectionately at his wife, whose hair was a brilliant chartreuse.

"Well, I..." Tim was once again prevented from finishing his sentence, this time by an incredibly loud crash of thunder followed immediately by the sound of very large, very nearby feet... pounding just outside the wall.

"Aaaaah! Damn it!" came a loud female voice, powerfully distorted by the small confines of their niche as well as the escalating weather outside. "Where's the god-damned opening?"

Tim glanced up at his hosts to see what they were making of this. The two worms looked at each other.

"There she is dear," said the female. The male nodded.

"Quite right. Off I go then." He squirmed off the cushions and moved past Tim to an opening on the far side of the little alcove; something Tim had failed to notice upon his arrival.

"Wha...?" Tim asked, confusion twisting his handsome features.

The little worm smiled at him. "Don't be worrying, dear. Your friend will be all right."

"My friend? Do you mean Wanda?" Tim jumped to his feet, then instantly regretted it as his stomach gave another lurch. He sank back down to the cushion and put his head between his knees. _No wait, that's for dizziness, not nausea._ He lifted his head again, just in time to see Mr. Worm returning, accompanied by a thoroughly wet, exhausted, and angry woman. He gaped, unable to believe his eyes.

The woman caught sight of him and her face transformed, anger melting away to be replaced by a wary smile. "Tim? Is it really you?"

Tim swallowed hard and stood again, slowly this time. He let the woman throw her arms around him and gingerly hugged her back. "Sarah," he said wonderingly, "what are you doing here?"

**Then**

There. He had found it. It lay invisible, the limen beyond which some measure of sanity might be found. To reach it, he had only...

...to reach it, he had only...

...only...

A great wave surged forth and spun him off course, sending him plummeting to earth in a shower of sparkling seconds. His heart beat, too fast, making him gasp for air. Seconds became minutes as he drew in magic, still much too far from the boundary of his original spell. His wounded soul bled freely and every gap was an invitation to darkness. Already the shadows gathered around him, sensing, perhaps, his imminent defeat.

_Not today._

He drew strength from the closeness of one long regarded as beyond his reach. If she was still free...

He surged once more into the sky and the shadows slunk away, disappointed...for now.


	10. Chapter 10

**Now**

Try as she might, Sarah just couldn't stay awake.

The craziness of the evening - the shock of finding herself in the Labyrinth again, the disorienting jumps as the boundaries of that kingdom shifted and the disturbing encounters with Toby and Jareth, both creatures who were revealed to be something other than what they seemed - had left her exhausted. It quickly became apparent to the little worms that sleep would need to be the first order of business.

"Wait," said Sarah, struggling for alertness. She'd been led to a pile of soft ..._something_... along the far wall, and slightly-damp feeling not-withstanding, sinking into it was very appealing. "I have questions." She glanced at Tim standing quietly against the glittering stones, his neat black hair just brushing the ceiling.

He shrugged, weariness making his rich voice brittle. "I think we both need to rest, Sarah. It's safe enough here. Let's re-group in the morning." Behind him, the little worms smiled kindly and bobbed their bright heads in agreement.

_No, I need answers..._ but darkness was creeping around the edges of her vision and her limbs were melting down into the soft bed. Soon, she was asleep.

_Sarah lifted her head in a bright space. She was cocooned in light; a sphere of bright silver threads enclosed her. _

"_I'm dreaming," she thought, and knew that it was true. She looked around, interested. She'd never been aware of her dreams before. Perhaps the Labyrinth facilitated such things? It was curious and gave her the feeling of Alice, down the rabbit hole. _

"_You have a choice, Sarah," said a voice behind her. _

_She spun around and saw two youths, slim and fey-looking. The male, who addressed her, had a shock of bright blue hair. His companion, a girl, had equally brilliant chartreuse hair. They smiled at her and there was something - familiar - about their smiles. "What choice?" she asked._

"_You can stay or you can go," said the blue-haired youth. "It's really quite simple." _

"_But if you stay," said the girl beside him, "then there is something you MUST do." _

_The pair looked at her expectantly. _

_Sarah hesitated, feeling drawn-in despite herself. But stay? In the Labyrinth? Why would she do that? _

"_Well," she said at last, "will you explain what the something is?"_

"_Sure," said the boy, "if that is your wish."_

_Sarah smiled and let her curiosity get the better of her once again. "It is," she said. "It really is."_

**Elsewhere**

Hoggle did not pride himself on his intelligence, but if pressed he would admit that you didn't get to be his age in a place like the Labyrinth if you were stupid. Usually.

So when he saw the telltale glitter-and-swish that betrayed Jareth at his _most_ flashy turning a corner just ahead, he was smart enough to realize something was not _quite_ right.

He quickened his pace until he reached the corner. The Goblin King was still close, still within earshot.

_I'm going to regret this_.

He cupped his hand around his mouth and took a deep breath.

"Sire!" he bellowed. "Your Majesty!"

Ahead in the dim corridor, the bright figure halted.

Hoggle hurried ahead as it began to turn.

_What in the Bog's name am I doing?_ _What if he…_ Hoggle froze.

Jareth was facing him now, leaning forward slightly, his expression perfectly blank.

A thought struck the dwarf like a hammer blow: _He doesn't know who I am._

The Goblin King seemed to be waiting for him to speak. "Ah, um..." Hoggle felt sweat breaking out on his forehead; little streams of it collected in the thick ridges there and trickled down to soak his bushy eyebrows.

Something dark moved beneath the surface in the eyes of the figure in front of him, and there was a feeling of something coiled, ready to strike. Lips parted ever so slightly, it leaned forward.

Hoggle turned and ran.

**Nearby**

It retched, vomiting shadow onto the bedclothes. On and on, the blackness poured from its open mouth; on and on, it spilled forth.

Inside, something twisted. Something strained against the boundary that was its skin. Something was in agony - dying the slowest of deaths.

Beneath it, in the world of wind and rain, the black-haired girl, the Not-Sarah, struggled for air. Perhaps she would die. Perhaps she would live. It didn't really care. It had been duped. It had been poisoned - but it would purge itself of that which was Not.

The crone's fingers moved against the bedclothes; she pushed against the shadow-substance, and traced a pattern, a sigil, that would hold against the encroaching darkness. The shadow pushed back, and burnt her skin, but she ignored it, and struggled to complete the pattern. _Hold. _She mouthed the words without making a sound. _Hold for the king._

It saw her. It felt the sigil flare into being and reacted immediately, becoming a thick cloud of hot, sticky ash and smoke. It was primordial, the stuff of volcanoes and nightmares and the beginning and ending of worlds.

The crone smiled even as her flesh melted, leaving her bones to sink into the shadow.

With a howl, it swallowed what she left and spun itself up and away from the bed. For a moment, it hovered below the ceiling. It still wanted. It still _needed._

On the bed, the girl stirred, very close to waking.

It would have liked to take her anyway, not to keep, just to bleed. But the sigil flared like a warning. It would need to look elsewhere.

The shadow-smoke became a snake-like rope that rolled through a crack and was gone.

**Above**

In the place between the trees, between the forest and the wall, something large moved slowly. It followed a bright thread left for it by a friend. Here and there, pieces of darkness assaulted it. From beneath rocks, inside cracks, little shadow-snakes sprung at it and coiled around its massive legs and powerful arms. It shook them all off as though they were nothing more than strands of cotton.

It walked, after all, among friends - over and above them. It followed its chosen path.

"My noble brother! How fare thee?" Sir Didymus swung down onto the path from a convenient oak tree.

"Broth-er? Didy-mus!" The large creature stopped and allowed the nimble fox to embrace his kneecaps.

"There, there, fine fellow. All a-twitter, are we?" Sir Didymus patted the hairy legs affectionately. "Not to worry, then. You've been doing a fine job."

"Ludo...job," agreed the beast, scratching its furry side with one large paw.

"Yes, yes, a fine job indeed. But there's one more thing you must do, my brother. Sarah needs your help again."

"Saw-rah? Help?" Shaggy brows raised over large and sensitive eyes.

"Indeed. There is a delivery to be made and you, my fine fellow, are the only one who can do it." Sir Didymus gestured to a rocky patch beside him and looked up at his companion. "Would you mind?"

"Sure." Ludo tilted his great head upward and gave a low, moaning howl, not unlike a rather out-of-tune bassoon. Beneath the feet of the little fox, a large boulder rose and boosted him up until he was on level with his larger friend.

"Much better." The little knight's eyes twinkled. He was having a marvelous time, all things considered. He leaned in close to his companion, tugging gently on one great, furry ear. "Listen well, friend," he began, and got to work relaying the message.

**Then**

Student-teaching was a great trial for Sarah.

She found a placement quickly enough, and she could hardly find fault with either her fellow teachers or the students at the small charter school where she worked. No, her problems stemmed more from her over-active imagination.

Since her encounter beneath the pine tree, her thoughts continually strayed towards the Labyrinth and its inhabitants. She took to sketching them, relying on her own memory to commit them to paper. She carried a sketchbook with her constantly, keeping it bundled with the Shakespeare-themed planner where she compiled her class notes.

In retrospect, it was probably only a matter of time before one of her students found her drawings.

"Are these from a play, Miss Williams?" inquired one of them, flipping through the pages of her book. "_A Midsummer Night's Dream_ maybe?"

Sarah snatched the book and stuffed it into her messenger bag. "That's private," she said primly, but seeing the somewhat chagrined look on the boy's face, allowed herself a small smile. "But no, they're not from any play, just a dream; a dream I once had."

The goblins weren't that easy to capture on paper. They had been so quick, when she was around them. They never seemed to stay in the same place for more than a second. Her impressions had been blurry, and over time, had grown blurrier.

Hoggle, Ludo and Sir Didymus were easier. She had spent several hours in their company - or at least it _felt_ as though she had. Their faces were etched firmly in her mind, as was someone else's.

Him. The Goblin King. She supposed he thought she hadn't really seen him, hadn't understood the temptation he had meant to be for her.

He was wrong.

Her fingers tried, over and over, to draw his likeness. Pencil was all wrong, so was marker. Chalk couldn't do it, neither could paint. Finally, a simple charcoal sketch did it best, rendered his angles, his lean lines, his shadowed face. After she finished his portrait, she turned quickly to a clean, fresh page and left him ignored beneath an exuberant pastel sketch of the fire gang.

Somehow, it seemed fitting.


	11. Chapter 11

**Now**

She woke determined to set things right.

Next to her, Tim slept on. Careful not to disturb him, she slid from the springy cushion and crept out of the little alcove to the larger room beyond.

Large, of course, was a relative measure. Even at her greatly reduced size, the room felt cramped and close. As she entered, the little worms looked up and gave her cheery smiles.

"You've made up your mind, love?" asked the larger worm. Beside him, his missus winked.

"I think", mused Sarah, "that all things reluctantly considered, I really do want to stay."

Her hosts nodded their little heads sympathetically. "Of course you do, dearie" they said in perfect unison. A steaming cup of tea was pushed to her across the floor.

Ever polite, she took it up and sipped cautiously. "Thank you," she said, and forced herself to take another sip. The taste was unusual - like lilacs and smoke and blueberries, all mixed together. Her eyes darted back in Tim's direction. She wanted to leave before he woke up.

"A little more tea?" queried Mrs. Worm, cocking her head to one side to indicate the teapot at Sarah's knee.

Sarah considered the remains of the tea in her cup. It had a peculiar blue color and she could swear there was glitter at the bottom. "No thanks. I really need to be going."

She stood up as best she could, but there wasn't quite room enough in the little home for her be completely upright. Hunched slightly, she looked around expectantly, then realized she had absolutely no idea how to leave. Not surprising, really, since she really didn't understand how they had brought her inside in the first place.

"Uh, mmm…" she cleared her throat, hoping the little worms might take the hint.

They peered up myopically as she shifted her weight from foot to foot, her neck beginning to cramp from its bent position.

"Ooh!" exclaimed Mr. Worm at last. He inched forward slightly and twisted a bit until his tail was pointing at a section of the wall just behind Sarah.

"Just step on through, dearie!" chimed in Mrs. Worm helpfully. "Unless you've reconsidered another cuppa?"

Sarah shook her head and winced as she hit the low ceiling. Moving more carefully, she smiled her thanks and turned to the indicated section of wall. Sure enough, her hand placed upon it went right through._ Just like the inner wall_, thought Sarah as she stepped forward…

And very nearly plummeted to her certain death down the steep wall of the Labyrinth.

"Shit!" She reflexively reached out and grabbed the nearest thing that would keep her from falling. She was still two inches high!

"Dammit dammit dammit!" she raged, legs and torso twisting in the air as the stalk of googly-eyed gander weed dipped and bobbed with her weight. "Help!" she cried, "Help! Help!"

**Elsewhere**

_This is it, _thought Hoggle as he ran through the Labyrinth. _This is the end._ His leather-clad feet pounded across clearings, rounded corners and struggled up stairs.

And still it pursued him.

Just once, he had glanced behind him as he took off down the corridor away from the thing that looked like the Goblin King but wasn't. Just once. It had almost been the end of him right then and there.

The king-like figure had been standing still, mouth open wide, eyes boring straight ahead as though fixed upon the retreating dwarf. Smoke, as thick and dark as storm clouds, poured from that orifice and rolled toward Hoggle.

In its tumultuous depths, sparks leapt and an ominous rumbling filled the narrow space.

Hoggle froze, feet still pointed forward and head twisted about on his stubby neck, white hair standing straight up and hands hanging limply at his sides. He watched, mesmerized, like a small bird caught in the hypnotic stare of a cobra, doomed to watch its death descend upon it. Helpless.

It drew closer and closer and still he didn't move.

_Whump!_ A large rock sailed over the top of the wall and landed squarely on the dwarf's head. The shock and pain broke the strange fascination that gripped him and he turned away from the coil of black smoke - now almost upon him - and ran; he ran for his life.

And now he was tiring. His muscles burned with the effort of keeping ahead of the smoke, now thick and ropy and moving impossibly fast along the stones behind him. He couldn't stop, couldn't look back, could barely breathe, but in his bones, a weary resignation was settling.

_I'm finished. _His pace slowed and he stumbled slightly, catching himself on the rough stones of a low arch as he ducked through. Pain blossomed on his arm where a thin filament of smoke had reached him, and he felt as though a hundred icy needles had pricked him. _Why fight?_

But even as he formed the thought, he was struggling forward, regaining his balance and lurching ahead. He tore his arm away from the small smoky coil and it dissipated into the air. Numbness was setting in where it had wrapped him from wrist to elbow. If it were to catch a leg, it would be all over. He swallowed a sob and kept moving, so entangled in pain and fear that he failed to notice where he was.

Just ahead, its many turrets rising over a sea of rooftops and chimneys like a many-headed hydra, loomed the great Castle Beyond the Goblin City. Without realizing it, Hoggle had - perhaps unconsciously - continued to make for his destination, taking a circuitous route that brought him up to it from the rear.

Now, his strength failing, he saw the south city gate in front of him. Unmanned, it lay open, inviting him in. He found a hidden well of energy and sprinted through it to the deserted street beyond. He had but one thought, shining like a beacon through his fog of despair: _Get to the castle._

**Nearby**

Wanda came awake all at once, choking on air gone thick and foul.

Her skin tingled, and when she pulled herself into a sitting position her hair and arms and back peeled away from the bed with a harsh ripping sound. Disoriented, she twisted about, simultaneously brushing away thick flakes of ash and trying to get her bearings.

The cottage was somewhat the worse for wear. Whatever happened while she slept had not been kind to the little home. A coating of dark ash lay everywhere she looked. Debris was scattered about as though a great wind had swept through. The fire had gone out and only the pink and orange light of a new day seeping in through the drawn shutters allowed her to see anything at all.

It was morning, then. That meant it was time to resume searching for her friends. She carefully swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up. The bed itself was surrounded by a scorched ring of the blackest ash and a tar-like residue coated the wooden posts.

_This,_ thought Wanda, _ is really, really gross. _

"Hello?" she called into the dim room, but there was no answer. The old goblin had disappeared. Wanda began to shiver, whether with cold or fear she couldn't say. Images from a dream kept flashing into her mind, making her jumpy. She was lost, she was filthy, and she was alone.

It was enough to bring tears to her eyes, but she blinked fiercely and forced them back. _I just need to decide what to do next_. Her stomach gave a painful lurch and in the back of her mouth, a bitter taste like under-ripe berries made her gag. She felt empty inside. Hollow - but she wasn't at all hungry. The very thought of food nearly made her retch. Water, though, would be good. She was suddenly desperately thirsty.

She moved slowly about the room, searching for something to drink. In a ransacked corner that must have served as a kitchen, a broken crock and damp patch on the ashy floor dashed her hopes. There didn't seem to be any sink or other source of running water. Her tongue burned and felt thick as a sausage. Even the tears that just moments before had threatened to spill over her dirty cheeks seemed to have gone dry. She gave a great, choking gasp that was half cough, half cry.

Something knocked sharply at the door.

Wanda turned toward the sound like a plant to the sun. "Hello?"

The door was pushed open and something black fell across the threshold like a shadow. Wanda instinctively pulled back. "Carlos?" she whispered.

**Above**

In the forest outside the Labyrinth, on the border of worlds, the sun had risen behind a pile of clouds as though reluctant to show its face. The rains from overnight had ceased, but a heavy dew clung to every leaf and blade of grass, catching those first watery rays of sunlight and converting them into strings of rainbow gems.

Pausing to pick a very large apple for breakfast, Ludo rubbed his eyes with the back of one shaggy paw. He was weary, but rest would have to wait. He popped the ripe apple into his mouth and drew himself up, puffing out his chest with pride. His was the noblest of tasks. Sir Didymus had said so and his brother the knight never lied. Never.

A shadow dropped across his path and he stepped back, startled. "Wuh?"

The shadow was solidifying, pulling itself up into the semblance of a great beast. Ludo stared, not comprehending what he was seeing. The figure in front of him had grown fur of the darkest grey, like the remains of a campfire. It had thick legs and arms and a large head that sprouted horns even as he stared at it. Soon, all that was left of its shadowy origin swirled beneath the surface of its two great eyes. It regarded him steadily.

"Huh?" Ludo tentatively extended one paw to poke the beast on the shoulder. "Hmm."

The beast, his dark twin, merely continued to gaze at him, not reacting to his explorations.

Ludo scratched his head and reached up to pick another apple, which he then held out to the figure in front of him. "Here."

Faster than Ludo himself had ever moved, the dark beast lunged forward, ignoring the apple and instead grabbing Ludo about the forearms with both enormous paws. Fiercely sharp claws extended and dug into Ludo's hide, making the gentle beast roar with pain.

"NOT friend!" wailed Ludo, attempting to pull away from his attacker. Unfortunately, his backward motion merely served to painfully pull that dark beast along with him, unbalancing them both and causing Ludo to sprawl on his back with his attacker atop him.

"Off!" Ludo opened his mouth to summon help, but found the howl he released somehow _pulled_ into the maw of the creature holding him. He drew in breath to increase his call, but found that only served to make the pull between them greater. No sound escaped to bring him aid; it all traveled directly into the mouth of his attacker.

Unseen above him, many bright shapes flitted, clearly agitated.

**Then**

"Miss Williams?" The voice was uncertain.

Sarah looked up from the book she had been reading beneath the sprawling canopy of the largest oak tree on her school's campus. A girl stood there, oddly dressed for the day's unseasonal heat. Though the temperature had passed eighty degrees Fahrenheit by noon, a record for that April day, the girl who addressed Sarah was covered head to toe in a heavy woolen cloak. Moreover, she was clutching the folds of the cloak about her as though to disguise her figure.

_An actress_, thought Sarah idly, mentally running through the list of plays she knew to have opened or be about to open. A fan of the theater since her early days at her mother's side, she kept tabs on these things almost unconsciously. She was trying to remember if _As You Like It_ was playing at the East Side Theater that weekend; or was it Highland House? _Eh, that's not the right one anyway. Heavy robes are usually from..._

The girl in the cloak cleared her throat, interrupting Sarah's musing. "Excuse me, you _are_ Sarah Williams, are you not?" Her expression said she was amused. It also said she knew very well whom she was addressing.

Sarah pursed her lips, annoyed but not wanting it to show. "Do I know you?" she asked, plucking a nearby dandelion and putting it to work as an impromptu bookmark.

The girl frowned down at her. "You shouldn't do that."

"What?" A note of exasperation crept into Sarah's voice. Still clutching her book, she climbed to her feet with as much grace as she could muster.

"It will ruin your book, that's all." The girl pushed back the hood of her cloak, revealing a narrow-featured, thin face surrounded by a puff of wispy yellow hair. She was still staring at Sarah's book, as though unable to help herself.

_Loonies! Why do I always attract them?_ Sarah leaned over and dropped the book into her wide straw tote, firmly closing it. She straightened, somewhat relieved to see the eyes of her visitor return to her face. "Let's start over," she said crisply. "I'm Sarah Williams, and you are?"

"A friend of a friend," answered the girl. She smiled then, revealing small, white teeth that were rather more pointy than was usual outside of a vampire flick. She let her gaze wander down Sarah's body, slim eyebrows raising only slightly when she got to the scruffy leather moccasins Sarah favored - so at odds with the rest of her neatly-tailored teacher's clothes. She looked up again and seemed to make up her mind about something. "I'm called May," she said at last.

"I see," said Sarah. "What can I do for you May? I'm afraid I was just about to head back to class." She nodded towards the neat brick building some hundred yards away. No need to mention it was a half day and school was out.

The girl shrugged and the heavy cloak slipped enough for Sarah to see that there appeared to be no other clothing on her body. "Nothing really," she said, apparently unconscious of the increasing amount of skin showing where the thick fabric fell away from her shoulders. " I just wanted to see you for myself."

_O-kay,_ thought Sarah, plastering a fake smile on her face and edging herself around the girl and closer to the building. _This one must be fresh out of the bin._ She snatched up her bag and pretended to wave to someone in the distance. "Well - ah - here I am. It was nice meeting you, May. I've got to run now." She turned and walked quickly toward the school, savagely biting her lip to keep from looking back.

"You can't have him, you know," shouted May, her voice becoming shrill like the whistle of a tea kettle. "You can't have him!"

Sarah flung herself at the fire doors, praying they were still unlocked. "Don't worry," she called back over her shoulder, "whoever he is, I'm sure I don't _want_ him!" With a push, she was through the doors and into the school.

_I need a vacation,_ she thought. _Badly._


	12. Chapter 12

**Part 3**

_Catch a candle, put it out._

_Finish what you've started._

_Darkness lures the devil out_

_and breaks the tender-hearted._

_Find the hole and mend it tight,_

_thread the needle, sharp and light._

_Gather every bright thread in_

_and end before you would begin._

**Now**

"Woof!"

A cloud of fur sprung through a nearby wall opening and moved beneath Sarah.

Ambrosius, tongue lolling and intelligent black eyes sparkling with mischief, came to her rescue in classic fashion. Most conveniently, he was still wearing the bridle used by Sir Didymus.

Sarah released the gander-weed and dropped into a dense tangle of fur. Her arms ached and tears of frustration welled and clouded her vision. She longed to be still and sleep for a week, to just forget about everything that had happened, every impossible thing. The temptation to close her eyes and snuggle down deeper into Ambrosius' thick fur was overwhelming, but fear of falling off his back made her struggle into a sitting position, no easy task considering her size, and she finally had to settle for hooking her boots beneath the bridle for stability.

"Woof!"

Sarah patted the sheep dog's neck with one tiny hand. "It's good to see you, boy."

The big dog was moving quickly through the Labyrinth, slipping through invisible openings and not hesitating in his choice of direction. Sarah frowned.

"Ambrosius," she said, "where are we going?"

The sheep dog rounded a corner and braked hard, nearly sending her flying. "Woof!" Ambrosius shook his head, causing a shower of drool to rain back on his passenger.

"What is it? Why have we stopped?"

A shadow fell across them, a tall figure blocking their sun.

_Oh shit._

"Really, Sarah," drawled a familiar voice, "I _had_ thought to take you in hand the next time we met, but you make it too easy." With no more effort than it would take to pick a peach, he plucked her from Ambrosius' back.

"Let me go, King Kong!" screeched Sarah. Feeling ridiculous and vulnerable never did good things to her mood. She pushed and pulled against the confining hand with no result other than the low chuckle that rumbled up from beneath his breastbone.

"I hope you're not really comparing me to an over-sized gorilla, " laughed Jareth dryly. He raised her so that her tiny eyes were level with his. "I had rather thought you might require my help."

It wasn't a question, but Sarah was on the brink of hotly refusing anyway, when he placed the forefinger of his free hand to his lips and shushed her. "I think it would be better for our future relationship if you were silent, Sarah." A crystal appeared on his fingertips, easily twice as high as Sarah. He pushed it towards her until it enveloped her like a soap bubble.

She did begin to yell then, but no sound emerged and Jareth grinned, clearly enjoying her anger.

With a flick of his wrist, he tossed her up and out where she somehow floated gently, the iridescent walls of her enclosure spinning slightly like a lazy moon.

Ever so slowly, she grew.

The crystal increased in size and so did Sarah, until finally it collapsed in a rain of glitter and she felt her feet once again on the solid stone of the Labyrinth.

All the while, Jareth watched her, eyes glittering like frost. Meeting his gaze, Sarah felt cold to the core.

"What do you want?" She watched him carefully, feeling her blood running colder and colder through her veins.

His grin was a caricature of a smile, utterly devoid of warmth.

"Why the same thing I wanted before." He seized both of her wrists in one powerful hand, pulling her close. His voice was brittle. "You, Sarah. I want _you_."

**Elsewhere**

The Goblin City curled around the castle like a cat, basking in the early morning sun. All was quiet, goblins not being especially early risers. Here and there, small animals crept in the shadows cast by the squat, ramshackle buildings, often appearing as little more than inky blobs moving close to the ground.

One large blob detached itself from the mouth of a stinking alley, sliding along the wall of a tavern and ducking around stray patches of sunlight.

Hoggle couldn't afford to be seen.

Since entering the city, he had lost sight of his pursuer. He only hoped the reverse was also true. He kept to the edges of things, treading as softly as he was able, keeping the castle in sight. Every noise made him jump; every shift of light sent his stomach into his shoes. Every minute was a struggle not to give in to the fear that filled him, every pore.

"Hoggle knows he's a coward," he whispered just beneath his breath. "Hoggle never said 'e was brave."

He craned his stubby neck as far around the corner of the tavern as it would stretch, eyes scanning the open square beyond; nowhere to hide there, he'd have to be quick.

"Go to the castle, he says. Go to the castle. Pffft! Pah!" He hustled forward, hunching over as he ran, moving from wall to fountain, to rock cairn, to busker's stand, and finally to the dubious safety of the covered market that was all that separated him now from his destination. Once past the dozens of unoccupied stalls, piles of tarp-covered wares and pots of chicken dung, he'd be at the side gate. If he was lucky, it would be unlocked. If not...he mentally shrugged his shoulders. He'd just have to think of something when he got there.

**Nearby**

Wanda concluded that she was still asleep; it was the only possibility that made any sense. How else to explain the figure that stood smirking at her amidst the ruin of the little cottage?

It was the glittering king, the lord of the ball, from her dreams.

Though not her type, Wanda eyed him appreciatively. He was _beautiful_; very tall and slender, wearing snug breeches, high boots, and an old-fashioned waistcoat only slightly less outlandish than the one he wore in her dream. On anyone else, such a costume would have screamed "probably prefers men", but somehow - on him - it worked.

_Fine,_ thought Wanda, _ I get it. You're hot. _ She tried and failed to picture Tim in a similar get-up. The result was comical enough to cause her to choke out a dusty laugh.

The sexy king frowned. "I amuse you? How...unexpected." He took three strides and came entirely across the room, appearing oblivious to the destruction surrounding him.

"Whoa," rasped Wanda, and then broke into a fit of dry coughing. The king's frown deepened. He made some sort of waving motion with his right hand - Wanda couldn't see very well through her fit - and a glass of water was held out to her. She took it and drank deeply. "Thanks," she said at last, wiping a filthy hand across her wet lips and then cringing.

The tall king smiled then, as though she were a child caught making mud pies. "You're very welcome, my dear." He retrieved the glass from her and waved it away.

_How the hell does he do that?_ He was watching her watch him, and his smirk had returned.

"You're not what I expected," he said, making her all-too conscious of her bedraggled state.

Wanda snorted indelicately. "I had a rough night." She pulled herself straight, trying to ignore the oddly smooth, white skin visible through the deep vee of his shirt. _Does he wax? _ She shook her head to focus her thoughts. "Look," she began, "I don't know wh..."

"Tsk tsk," interrupted the king, "let us begin at the beginning, shall we?" He sketched a shallow bow, like an actor in a street fair. "I am called Jareth, King of the Goblins, and lately, Lord of the Labyrinth. At your service."

Wanda gaped, but recovered herself quickly. "Er, nice to meet you, I guess." He was watching her face intently, and raised an eyebrow at her hesitation. "I mean, er ..." She blushed then, which made her angry. "I'm Wanda," she finally spit out, "and I have no idea where I am."

**Above**

Ludo's vision was dimming.

Pictures moved through his mind: Sir Didymus, the Bog of Eternal Stench, the great Castle Beyond the Goblin City, a juicy, ripe apple, his old friend Sarah. Faster and faster, the images lit and flew away like small birds on a sunflower. In the corners of his eyes, sparks of light flashed like fireflies.

And the weight, like a boulder bearing him down, down, down into the grass. It meshed with the pain and the torrent of images until he was left with only one thought, one idea, which wedged itself in his brain like a buoyant pearl in a bed of shifting sand. _Come,_ he thought, he pleaded, _come and help. Help Ludo!_

And they did.

Dozens of them. Hundreds, maybe thousands. They flickered into being and lit on his attacker, iridescent wings flashing in the rising sun. Their fury was magnificent.

With a roar, the beast flinched and shook, heaving its back and twisting its head in an attempt to dislodge the fairies.

The connection broken, Ludo gasped and let loose with a roar of his own. Ignoring the pain, he pushed and kicked until his attacker was forced up and off, then he staggered to his feet, swaying to and fro like goblins outside a tavern.

The dark beast continued its own roar, limbs flailing but otherwise invisible beneath the onslaught of sharp fairy teeth, swords, and magic. It took on the appearance of a monstrous caterpillar, cocooned in undulating silk, thrashing against its confines. Only its eyes were untouched, and the darkness within pulsed angrily, seeking escape.

But there was none. Fairy magic kept it firmly contained in its chosen shape. Fairy swords and teeth inflicted a searing pain and a poisonous damage belied by their size. The creature's struggles grew feebler as the barrage continued. By the time its victim had steadied himself and stood above him, the fairies' work was done.

Despite the broad strokes of emotion his features portrayed, Ludo nevertheless managed to display a look of unflagging contempt for the whimpering shadow creature. "Rocks not Ludo's _only_ friends," he said, and with a sweep of his giant tail, took off down the path.

**Then**

The Goblin King's glare would have frozen the bog solid.

"Say it again," he ordered, "I'm sure I must not have heard you correctly."

The subject of his demand - a pudgy, nervous goblin with extremely bad breath - stammered a reply. "Uh...um...I mean...you see, sire...it was like this..." Beads of sweat, thick and greenish, erupted on the creature's forehead as it hunched its shoulders and tried to make itself as small as possible.

Jareth reached out and grabbed it by one of its grungy horns, yanking it viciously forward and up so that it's feet left the floor and its bloodshot eyes were level with his own. "Say - it - again."

The goblin grunted in fear, its legs and arms utterly limp. "I seen her," he whispered, "I seen her _grow_."

"_Whom_ did you see?"

The goblin was no longer looking at his king. So deep was his terror, he muttered almost to himself. "I _seen_ her. Right big, she grew, like His Majesty. Right big." He snuffled loudly and wet himself. "She seen _me_ too."

Jareth dropped him then, a look of profound disgust on his aquiline face. "Leave me."

His subjects made haste to clear the room. Finally alone, he made a gesture that extinguished every candle and wall sconce, leaving him in darkness. In his stomach, an unfamiliar emotion was pooling: guilt. His foolish obsession had endangered her at last; now, when he was most powerless to help her.

Fairies were tricky beings, and their queen was more capricious than intelligent. He shook his head. It was impossible. Even disconnected as he was from the Labyrinth's magic, he could not imagine any way that the fairy queen could have tapped into it by herself. He had never heard of such a thing being done before. It simply wasn't possible...was it?

Inside him, another emotion churned with the guilt, creating a sickening stew: fear. He felt fear. Something had begun that would be difficult to stop.

But stop it he must. No matter what the cost.


	13. Chapter 13

**Now**

Sarah's wrists ached; so did her head. _Focus, Sarah,_ she thought. _Look into his eyes._

Her captor had pulled her to an opening in the labyrinth's wall - a narrow niche nearly obscured from view by a curtain of thorny green vines sprouting furry, pink flowers. He'd shoved her inside - a space barely large enough to stand upright, with no room to sit or even squat. Now he paced outside, muttering to himself.

Sarah moved to push aside the foliage, then abruptly stopped. Something about those flowers made her nervous. She tried her voice instead. "Jareth."

He stopped pacing and turned to her.

"Jareth," she said again, needing him to come closer, close enough to see his eyes. "I want to talk to you."

He eyed her warily, not speaking, but finally moving forward until he stood an arm's length from her flowery cage.

Sarah got a glimpse then of his odd eyes, and of the darkness swirling there. It lasted only seconds, and then he had turned away from her again. His hands moved over the flowers, stroking them, and Sarah noted with queasy fascination the way each petal seemed to rise up to meet his fingers, like a cat arching its back.

Eyes still on the king, she let one of her own hands wander toward a smallish blossom, idly wondering if they might purr.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Sarah snatched her hand back, but not before something sharp had erupted from within the flower with a breathy hiss, piercing the skin of her thumb. She stared dumbly at a bead of bright blood that welled there, eyes flicking back and forth between her hand, the twitching flower, and the Goblin King. Was it her imagination, or were _all _ the blossoms now twitching, causing the vines to shake and shudder around her?

The king offered her a sad smile then, shaking his head as though at a misbehaving child. "Poor Sarah, so unaware of the dangers surrounding her." He resuming stroking the agitated flowers and gradually the twitching stopped. "I'm afraid they have a taste for you now, my dear. Not that they'd harm you. Not really." He reached through the curtain of vines and caught hold of her injured hand, pulling it through the foliage and up to his lips.

Did he mean to kiss her again? Sarah instinctively pulled her arm, trying to slip from his grasp. "Wouldn't they?" she asked tightly. "I wonder."

The Goblin King merely laughed and released her. "The loss of blood would weaken you, of course, but the Glories take care of their own." He nodded to the furry flowers, now undulating like waves. "I find them ... _useful_."

"It's hardly necessary for you to demonstrate your control of the Labyrinth," hissed Sarah between clenched teeth. It was so very hard control her temper.

"Oh but Sarah," purred the king in his velvet voice, "you must realize that _control_ is very heart of the matter between us." He looked at her thoughtfully, head cocked to the side and the ghost of a smile dusting his lips. "It's all about control, Sarah. _Mine._"

There was a flash of light, like fireworks without the sound, and then Sarah was alone.

_Just who has control here. I wonder. _In her head, the seed of an idea was germinating.

**Elsewhere**

Hoggle was lucky.

_Well what do you know,_ he thought as he moved into the small courtyard, _something went right. _He was careful to close the gate behind him, still amazed that it had opened to only a gentle push.

_Not,_ he reflected, _that the King has ever cared two figs for security. Who'd be stupid enough to break into the castle? _ He spat, wishing for a mug of good ale. _I guess I am. Is it breaking-in if King Jareth bade me do it me-self? Bah!_

Still muttering to himself, Hoggle hitched up his pants and started up the small, crooked stairs that led to the servants entrance of the Goblin Castle. Intent on placing his feet carefully on the worn stones so that he didn't slip, he did not at first notice the enormous black shadow creeping towards him from the top of the stairs. What he did notice was the sudden chill wind, the hush that surrounded him like the whole city was holding its breath. He stopped climbing and looked up. And screamed.

He screamed again and ducked as the black shape swung over his head, snapping in the now-cold air like some pennant, loosed from its post. Another scream tore itself out of him as the shape bunched and sprung at him, forcing him lower into the dusty steps, thick hands spread over his head for protection.

A foul smell assaulted his nostrils; worse than the Bog of Eternal Stench, worse than anything he'd ever experienced. If despair had an odor, it would smell like this. He gagged, choking on it, eyes stinging and clouding his vision with tears.

"Farg!" Why wasn't he dead? It really seemed as though he should have been dead by now. The smell. _Oh, Gods, the smell!_

Cold seeped into his skin, into his bones. He pressed into the dry stone; it was warm against his cheek. He opened his eyes, just a slit, just enough to note the darkness that had settled over him like a shroud.

His back arched, and a raw, animal sound escaped his throat.

Then, it was inside him.

**Nearby**

As the orange sun crawled higher in the sky, Wanda considered her change of circumstances.

For a day that had begun rather badly, she had to admit things seemed to be improving. Her new benefactor was certainly easy on the eyes, and if he was to be believed, he was her roommate Sarah's sweetie. Sarah, Miss Butter-Wouldn't-Melt-in-my-Mouth, had a boyfriend. Wanda marveled as the very fabric of her reality unraveled and then remade itself. She was going to have to have a serious talk with that girl. But first...

"Hey, Your Kingliness! I mean your Majesty. Hey!" The lithe figure of the aforementioned King of the Goblins had lengthened his stride and now threatened to disappear from her sight altogether amidst the twists and turns of the stony labyrinth through which they moved.

He paused, just long enough to make a rather imperial gesture with one long, gloved hand. Then he was moving again, faster then ever.

"Damn it," cursed Wanda, forcing herself into a jog. "Why can't you _wait?_" It was positively undignified, moving like this, bits and bobs _bouncing_ in a most obscene fashion. What if somebody saw her? What if Tim saw her? She cringed, but kept moving, eyes scanning the walls as she sped past. Weird. It was all very weird.

Clumps of long, mossy stalks dotted the walls, and swiveled to follow her as she went by. _Are those eyes?_

She was careful not to get too close to the pitted, glittering stones. _If I ever get out of here, _ she thought, _ I'm going to confine my rambling to the back garden and never set foot in the forest again. Ever._

Twisted roots snaked across the path, threatening to trip her and forcing her to keep glancing down at the ground. _Some kingdom this is,_ she thought. _Don't they have enough money for a gardener?_

She looked up. She stopped. _Oh, twist._ And aloud, "Oh, twist-on-a-stick!" The way forward was blocked by a wall. A solid wall. A solid wall with no openings. She gaped at it, willing it to reveal a door or window or _something_. The tall king was no where in sight. She'd lost him.

"Great. That's just great."

* * *

Sir Didymus watched from a secluded niche. If he felt any pangs of disappointment that his monarch would desert a lost lady, he hid them well.

_His majesty is not in his right mind at present, _he told himself reassuringly. _He would want me to act in his stead._

For a few moments, he watched as Wanda checked several potential pathways, but the continual shifting of certain sections of wall was clearly confusing her. Biding his time, he waited until she was close to his niche, then stepped out in front of her, doffing his cap with a flourish and a bow.

"Milady, dost thou need an escort to yon castle?"

**Then**

Maelindria smiled to herself as she watched the figure of Sarah Williams disappear into the ugly, block-like building. _So frumpy, _she thought, with a delicious surge of malice. _So plain and boring. A teacher, of all things. How utterly bland. _

A laugh escaped her then, low and nasty. _Enough of this._ Her back itched where her wings should be, and her feet -unused to standing- sent sharp twinges of pain up her legs. Hot. She was so hot.

With another laugh, she let the thick cloak fall away from her, relishing the cool air on her skin. Just across the lawn, two men -gardeners by the look of them - stopped and stared, tools forgotten. Maelindria saw them and smiled broadly, enjoying their reaction. She ran her own hands down her naked torso, over her small breasts and coming to rest just above the tufted mound that seemed to be of such interest to them. _How stupid human males are._ And how easy to control. She crooked her little finger in their direction, letting her smile shade to coy and inviting.

One of the men rubbed his eyes, clearly not trusting them. The other looked around furtively, as though afraid someone else might have seen his prize.

Maelindria, Queen of the Fairies, moved backward into the shadow of a large tree. She turned her back to the men, then bent over and shook her hair. A quick glance over her shoulder revealed that she still had their undivided attention. _Good. _She was tired...and hungry. She moved deeper into the shade, pretending not to notice their approach.

The first man approached tentatively, as though afraid she would disappear before he got close. The second man had no such fears, and stalked up to her confidently. He did give the first man a nasty glare, but said nothing to him. Maelindria wet a finger in her mouth and ran it up and down the smooth bark of the tree, pretending not to notice them. Surreptitiously, she studied them from the corner of her eye. The first man was inconsequential, slim and weak-looking, but the second was quite large and projected a confidence she found attractive.

It was so much more satisfying to break the strong ones.


End file.
